Rule of the Heart
by delminions
Summary: After Jonathan experiences yet another break-up, Luke takes him up to L.A. for a long holiday, where he finally meets Evan in person for the first time. What follows are dreams and pain mixed with pleasure as Jonathan and Evan are made to confront themselves on their feelings. A H2OVanoss fanfic.
1. Chapter 1 - Halloween

_A/N: So I just started writing H2OVanoss fics. I feel like I need to be smited for even trying, but y'know, once you've gone down the rabbit hole, you're not coming back up. To be frank, I've never been so inspired in my whole life, and this got me out of my dumb stupor for a moment just to work on a piece of writing. And so here is the first chapter of RotH, it's a silly title I came up with on the spot because I can't think of any other titles. Chapter 1 is incredibly slow, so bear with me for a little bit, because this is just the very beginning. The story will pick up its pace, I promise (actually, no promises there whilst I'm still writing.)_

 _I hope you enjoy the first chapter of Rule of the Heart - a H2OVanoss fanfic…_

* * *

 **Chapter 1 - Halloween**

"How do I look?" Evan peeked out from the bedroom, his body half hidden behind the door. A sky blue jacket hung limply from his muscular frame, almost as though it was too big for him.

"I can't see you when you're shying away, sweetie."

Evan sidled out from behind the doorway and into the light – and as it hit him, a soft glow emanated from the bright blue he was barely wrapped up in.

A small, quirky smile played on Sarah's lips.

"I can't quite tell who you're trying to be except some dork who's wearing an oversized blue jacket."

"Wait a second," Evan flashed a playful grin, and hurried back into the bedroom, returning with a badly painted-over hockey mask over his face.

Her smile widened, equally playful now. "You must like him a lot, huh? This hockey mask-wearing guy with his mismatching blue jacket."

"Well, I'm out of ideas." Evan shrugged.

"So your mind goes straight to him first, then?" Sarah teased, her eyes glinting.

Evan chuckled, and pulled her into a loose embrace. "Hard not to think of him when I think of fun. Cheap, easy fun… that's different from this extraordinary bundle of beauty and fun I have here, no?"

Sarah pulled away, pressing her lips into a feigned pout. "So you like him more than me, then."

"Sarah…" Evan mock-whined, gently cupping her face. "You, more than anyone else." Slowly, he leaned in, and soon their lips met in a breathless kiss.

It was a long moment before they parted, their eyes still fixated on each other, deep brown into grey.

"We'd better get going," Sarah whispered, her voice tender. "We can't keep everyone waiting."

* * *

"Looks like everyone else is here," Evan peered into the distance as he pulled over by the roadside. "Let's go."

He left the car, shutting the door behind him, and walked over to passenger seat to open the door for Sarah, holding his hand out in a spitting image of the perfect gentleman. Taking his hand with a soft giggle, Sarah emerged from her seat gracefully.

"I'm dressed as a witch, not a princess, you know."

"All the same, you're a princess to me."

Hand in hand, the couple set off towards a house illuminated by intense green and red lights. Just as they stepped onto the porch, they were greeted by distant, anguished screams that faded very slowly into nothingness.

"Great," Evan groaned. "They haven't any intention of letting this be just a party."

"Oh, come on, at least it's rather fitting. You have the mask of a killer right there. And to be quite frank you're dressed as a deranged – OH GOD!"

Quite abruptly, the door in front of them swung violently open, revealing a man in a skeleton suit, arms raised in an awkward attempt to terrify. Evan stared at the man, suppressing an urge to laugh.

"Oh, it's you two… Sarah, who said you could bring Delirious, huh? That's the wrong Youtube guy I wanted at this party, you know."

"Oh, let us in, you goof, at least he's someone bigger than you'll ever be!"

Loud whooping and shouts of "OHHHH!" reverberated throughout the room behind him. The man paused, and stepped aside almost reluctantly, shutting the door behind them as they entered the darkness of the house.

The rest of the night was but a mess. After being offered several consecutive glasses of drinks straight after he entered, Evan was beginning to get tipsy – tipsy to the point of delirium. He broke into fits of giggles at the slightest push, and was staggering from side to side ever so slightly, engaging all sorts of strangers in the strangest of conversations.

"Hey, hey," one of strangers giggled as she stumbled face-first into him, the smell of liquor invading his nostrils as she got closer. "Do a H2O Delirious face reveal!"

A laugh bubbled up from the depths of his chest. "Sure, sure…"

Pulling his phone out from his pocket, he turned on the video function of his camera and flipped the camera lens towards him. Barely holding back his laughter, he pressed the big red button on the screen, and began slurring his words as he had always heard from the mouth of his dear friend –

"What's up everybody, it's H2O Delirious here and I'm gonna do a face reveal… It's been too long, and I'm gonna bare my soul out to the world and all my subscribers, okay?"

Evan fastened his hands on the hockey mask and slowly slid it upwards away from his face. As he felt the cool air begin to hit his lips and his nose, the gleeful laugh that he had tried so hard to hold back came tumbling out in a loud guffaw, prompting him to hastily pull the rest of the mask off his face.

"I'm- I'm here!" He barely choked out between laughs, promptly ending the video as the rest of the room joined in his gaiety.

* * *

Evan awoke with a start as a sharp light hit him from beyond his eyelids. Turning away from the source, he slowly opened his eyes, mentally willing the haze in his mind to subside. He soon became aware of a low, annoying buzz in his ears, and it was beginning to tick him off. He lay still, ignoring the gentle lurches of his stomach and the misery in his head, until his body's displeasure at his antics of the previous night began to slowly abate.

The sunlight, however, was a less forgiving disciplinarian. It crept ever so slowly through the glass window, moving closer and closer towards his eyes, until Evan was completely consumed by the annoying heat and light. Frustrated, he migrated to another side of the bed, but was once again consumed by the sunlight in what felt like a short moment.

"Get up, lazy bum, even the sun's trying to wake you up." Sarah's soft voice tinkled gently against the still-annoying buzz in his ears.

"What the hell happened?" Evan groaned, his voice barely a murmur against a pillow.

"You got shit-faced, posted a ton of things online and I had to whisk us all home like the witch I was. I could barely even get the mask and the jacket off you before you straight up passed out on the bed."

Evan frowned, and turned his face into his pillow.

"Your phone has been going off the whole morning, by the way, if that's enough incentive for your sleepy bum to get up."

Her words were followed by another frustrated groan from Evan. He listened as she softly padded out of the room, before he finally turned back upright and reached for his phone, swiping away at it from memory. As his eyes fluttered open, he was greeted by countless messages from his friends.

"Evan, are you even getting on?"

"Evan, god damn it, we're all waiting and Nogla's going to go to bed soon."

"Evan, where in the god damn hell are you?"

"Where are you? We're waiting and you said we'd record today."

Shit. Evan did promise, only to stand his friends up at the very last moment. He shot out from the bed hastily, scrambling towards the bathroom to clean up and get dressed. As he hurriedly brushed and shaved, he looked through all of his social media accounts for signs of last night. Most of them were intact and free from the destruction of the night before – with the exception of Twitter.

Countless pictures and videos littered across his Twitter timeline, with the very first being his "face reveal" video. At more than three thousand favorites and nearly a thousand re-tweets, the video of him drunkenly doing a "face reveal" as his close friend was undoubtedly the best-received tweet of the night – not that Evan wanted his drunken antics to be well-received in any way at all. His friends, as well, have all re-tweeted the video. He sighed, slightly tempted to erase all evidence of the whirl that was the previous night.

As he logged onto Skype and joined in on the group chat, he noticed that it was much more silent and emptier than he had expected it to be – some of the guys were offline, some of them had their statuses set to away, but almost none of them were on the call – except two. Luke and Delirious.

"Hey, uh – I'm sorry about standing you guys up," Evan began as he joined the call.

"'Sup H2O?" Luke slurred, evidently exhausted. Delirious responded with his subdued, yet signature giggle, sounding equally fatigued.

"Nothin' much, lotsa drink and bustin' my face reveal, it's all game over man, the world knows how I look like now; I'm that hot Asian guy." Delirious chortled.

"Yeah, yeah," Evan feigned a sigh, trying not to laugh himself. "At least you're not like that guy Vanoss who stayed home and got wasted thinking about how he's going to grow old all alone while throwing sweets at kids that come by or something like that."

Luke laughed softly, sounding as though there was little energy spurring him on. Delirious, however, was sharply silent – and this silence dragged over a long, protracted pause.

"Are you alright there?" Evan queried, his voice uncertain. He was almost sure he had hit a nerve with the statement, judging by the odd reaction that Delirious had.

"Yeah, I'm alright." Delirious replied, unusually quickly. "What's up with you? You go and have a nice long party and you forget about us?"

"Look, I'm sorry, guys. I'm even sorrier that I can't tell that to the others. How long did you guys wait?"

"Eons," Luke drawled. "And then we just decided to record something small and postpone the bigger ones with you to another day. We figured you probably died somewhere and won't be coming back until next Halloween."

"Shit. Uh, I guess I'll have to make it up to you guys, big time. Are we playing again later on?"

"Yeah. Just don't get wasted and dump us again. Now go work out or somethin', big guy, and leave us to rot." Luke murmured, his exhaustion increasingly apparent.

Both Luke and Delirious watched as Evan's profile picture vanished from their screens.

"Y'know, I'm no Evan and I can't make you say whatever embarrassing shit you say half the time, but it's fuckin' about Liselle again, isn't it?" Luke grilled, breaking out of his sleepiness abruptly.

"Shut up."

"Really? Because I'm pretty damn sure you said nothing about your Halloween night. And it's supposed to be one of your favorite holidays, too."

"Just – just shut it, okay?"

"Yeah, that reaction… it's about Liselle alright. Just like Evan said, huh?" Luke probed, ferocious. "You dumbasses decide you're done again and you mope your damn spooky holiday away thinking you're all alone like you always do. Jonathan, you're far from being a damn high school kid, man, the two of you have been at this on-and-off thing for ages, the fuck are you still moping for?"

Jonathan sighed. The cat was out the bag – and there was nothing he could do about it, nothing he could hide any longer. "I think… getting back together with her… might've been a mistake." He mumbled, biting his lip.

"I'm listenin'." Luke sighed.

"I thought I was done. I thought we were finished, for real this time. I even made plans to move away and get away from all those memories and start afresh and all that shit, but even before I moved I just had to fall back into that trap. I don't even know what I was thinking. I was sick, sick and delirious." He chuckled sadly. "And then I thought I wanted her back. Sure it was nice having her around when I was all sick and alone, but… in the end… It's wasn't good, was it?"

"Nope. You two… just no."

"And even now… I'm in a new place and all, and it's still going to be the same thing again now that we're done again. I don't even know if I should even stay here anymore. Maybe go to Antartica or something."

"Jonathan…" Luke began, distressed. "You don't need to leave. Look, we can always take a nice long holiday. To L.A., for instance. Meet some of our friends. They're dying to meet you. It's a nice change of scene for some time, and you won't be all alone."

"I'm not sure, Luke... It's nice to be alone sometimes. After all, I've only been in this house for a couple of weeks. I've got to finish up fixing up the place before I go anywhere."

"It's all up to you, buddy." Luke stifled a long, drawn out yawn. "Look, I'm going to bed. Don't linger on it. I know your house is still a little bit empty now, but… don't go looking for something to fill that void so soon, you get what I mean? You'll just change what you have right now, and just live to regret it."

Jonathan paused, thinking about Luke's words. It was but a subtle warning to him to not turn back to Liselle, wrapped up with the warmth of his love for him as a brother.

"No promises there… but I'll try."


	2. Chapter 2 - Dreams

_A/N: I finished this chapter way earlier than I thought I would. I swear to god, I'm a little addicted to whatever's going on in my imagination right now (and I'm neglecting some aspects of real life right now to do so) and ideas are just tumbling straight out of my head on into the story. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter - again, it's still a little slow, but we're getting there, I promise! (I personally can't wait for Evan to meet Jonathan in person and spend time together with him, but that's another chapter down the road...)_

* * *

A soft ringing sounded in the distance, an odd, distorted noise. Fumbling about, Jonathan reached for his phone.

" _Liselle?_ " Jonathan called, his voice uncertain. " _Liselle, what is it?"_

" _I can't do it anymore, Jonathan. I really can't_." A high voice crooned softly over the line.

" _What- what do you mean?"_

" _I don't know if I love you anymore, Jonathan. I don't know if you love me. I don't know… just… let's just take a break, shall we?_ "

" _Liselle – LISELLE, WAIT!_ " Jonathan yelled fruitlessly, as her voice faded away into silence.

"LIS-"

His eyes flitted wide open, as he caught the last half of her name in his throat in a loud gasp. After a long moment to gather his thoughts, he sat upright, pulling the comforter around his body tighter. He needed warmth – a warmth that went beyond the physical warmth that he tried hard to surround himself with in the moment. He shivered, freezing deep inside.

Luke was right. The emptiness was killing him. It made him want affection and companionship – as well as Liselle – more than anything. Every bone and every particle in his body ached for a loving touch, and the only person that could have possibly given it to him had walked out on him once again.

Reluctantly, he crawled out of bed and headed to wash up. As he ran his long, thin fingers through water, he looked up and stared at the man in the mirror. _I look terrible_ , he thought to himself. _Delirious outta my mind_. Sighing, he bent down into the sink and scooped water towards his face furiously.

When he finally freshened himself up, with his breath smelling of mint and his skin emanating a fresh, woodsy musk, he started up his computer and joined in on the group call on Skype. Instantly, he was bombarded with yells over his headset.

"EVAAAAAAAAAN!"

"GOD DAMN IT EVAN I'M FUCKING DONE!"

Deafening laugher then followed these angered screams, with Evan's being the most audible. A quick check revealed that everyone in the call was in a session of GMOD, and Jonathan joined in on the game, eager to see what antics the crew have been up to.

An ever-familiar scene was unfolding before his eyes. Countless explosions filled his screen as Evan continually spawned nukes all over the map whilst he zigzagged all over, laughing maniacally as structures were destroyed and friends were constantly being zapped out of existence only to re-spawn in the middle of another explosion.

"You guys will never get me!" Evan laughed, as he spawned another nuke right above Jonathan's character.

"NOOOO VANOSS!" Jonathan yelled, bursting into a fresh set of giggles as he watched his character give way to an explosion.

"Oh yeah?" Tyler yelled over the chaos, and as he did, a rocket flew towards Evan's character, sending its ragdoll flying towards the ground. "GOTCHA, BITCH!"

And so began the first of many explosions and battles amongst the group of friends. Jonathan was almost in tears by the end of it, with the endless fits of laughter that he was constantly sent into by the chaotic fights and outrageous comments making his day just like every other time that it did.

Just as the session was ending, Nogla asked a favor of Evan and Jonathan.

"I need an intro from us three, it's going to be like you and Delirious hanging out and shit like that, and then I come in and you guys nuke me, okay?"

"Jesus, that is the worst sounding intro I've ever heard of." Evan replied.

"Hey, don't knock it until you've tried it. You guys can be fighting over the title of the real Delirious or something like that, I don't care, just make it intense."

A cry of mirth from Craig and Tyler confirmed what the rest of the participants were thinking.

"Oh, shut up, you know what I mean." Nogla bit back, annoyed. "Actually, you know what, make it intense however you want, that's plenty of views right there."

"If you say so…" Evan positioned his character right next to Jonathan's, with their faces barely touching.

"This is so gay," Jonathan giggled.

"It's what the bad man wants, baby. We give the bad man what he wants." Evan quipped playfully. His tone changed immediately, as he began again – "Delirious. You know what?"

"What?" Jonathan responded.

"I'm the real Delirious."

"No, I'm the _real_ Delirious!" Jonathan tried to sound indignant.

Nogla's Zoidberg character walked up towards the two characters, and he began, "Hey guys, I'm the real – "

BAM. The scene was filled with nothing but explosions and particle effects once again, and Jonathan fought hard to suppress his laughter until he had clearance from Nogla. When the green light was finally given, the parties exited the game, each satisfied with their recordings. Farewells were given amongst the group, and one by one the participants in the call began to dwindle.

"Delirious?" Evan called out.

"Yeah?" Jonathan answered.

"Not much, uh… Just wondering about something Luke said to me."

"What?" Jonathan asked. _What did Luke say to Evan?_ He wondered angrily for a moment if Luke revealed the possibility of a holiday trip to LA to Evan. _Nobody should know_ , he thought. _Especially Evan_.

"Really, it's not much. I'm, uh, going to bed, so yeah, you should too."

"I just woke up not long ago." Jonathan sighed.

"Oh, right. Everyone's sleep schedule is so bloody messed up, I don't…" He yawned, almost inaudibly. "Play together again soon, okay?"

"You make it sound like we rarely ever do."

"No, but it's just that what with you being sick and moving and then settling down and all that… we haven't really played together seriously for some time."

"Sorry dude. I'll try to keep up with you guys, but I've got stuff for my own channel to mind too. I need to rush out some of those Let's Plays for the subscribers, too."

"Either way, it'll be nice to play with you again properly." Evan yawned again. "I should really sleep. Goodnight, Delirious."

"Goodnight," Jonathan said, his voice softer than usual. Just as a click signaled that Evan had hung up and dismissed the group call, he added in an even softer whisper, "Sleep tight."

Once again, everything was empty.

* * *

"Luke? What the hell did you tell Evan?" Jonathan seethed.

"Nothin' much, just that I might be goin' up to L.A. with a friend soon. And I didn't just say it to Evan, it was for everybody."

"You - He _knows_ it's going to be me!"

"Well then fine, you'd want to meet him in person too, don't you?"

"That's beyond the point! You know it's the last thing I want for now."

"God, Jonathan, don't you think you're overreacting? _You think_ that he knows. What if he doesn't? What if, when I bring you up there, he just thinks you're just another friend of mine?" Luke reasoned. "Or… do you _want_ him to know that it's you?"

"Shut the fuck up."

"Oh, come on. You've always wanted to hang out with him in person. Whether he knows it's you or not doesn't matter. Do you really think he'll mind if it's really you?"

"It's not that – it's just that-"

"That what? You're not pretty enough for him?"

Jonathan rolled his eyes. _Again with the teasing_. "I don't care what he thinks about what I look like. It's just – he's so popular. If he knows, then the whole world will soon know. I'll end up appearing in a photograph or a video and everyone will figure out who I am."

"No photos and no videos then. Just me, you, Evan and Craig and whoever else wants to join in. Relax, man. Your identity ain't getting rustled anytime soon." Luke replied, assuring. "When're we good to go? I'm keepin' any time before the Christmas week free."

"Give me a week. I need to pack and shit. And make sure the laptop and all the other equipment's working fine so I can bring it along."

"Alright buddy. Seeya in a week." Luke hung up.

 _In a week, I'll see him. And…him_ , Jonathan thought, closing his eyes. He tried to visualize their first meeting. Evan would stand there, his medium tanned skin glistening gently against the sunlight. His dark hair would be styled to perfection, and his deep brown, almost-black eyes would bore deeply into his own ocean blues. The moment would be perfect… until his eyebrows knit themselves into a frown. " _You're Delirious,_ " he would accuse, his anger unmistakable. " _Did you really think you could get away with lying to me? You're pathetic._ "

" _Mysterious? Seriously…"_ Evan's voice distorted, and deepened into another familiar voice, " _you're simply a pathetic kid trying to hang with the big kids._ "

Evan moved even closer, his soft features melting away into another man with every step he took. His muscular form seemed to grow even bigger, and he was soon hulking above Jonathan. The deep voice continued –

" _You're just a leech. Sticking around us? You're nothing. Staying so close to Nick like that… are you a fag? You are, aren't you? You dumb fag, you can't even talk right. Come any closer and I'll tell everyone you're a faggot, Johnny boy!_ "

" _I thought we were friends…_ " Another voice began. " _Nick, I thought we…_ "

" _Enough, Jonathan. Act normal or something. Don't come close to me anymore…that's the most I can do for you. Eric isn't going to like it, but…_ " A sigh. " _I lo-… I hope you understand. Goodbye, Jonathan._ "

" _Goodbye, Jonathan."_ Liselle's voice echoed softly in the distance.

His eyes snapped open once again. _How did I manage to fall asleep_? He immediately looked for the time, and to his relief, merely 15 minutes had passed. His chest ached painfully at the memory of Liselle – and even more painfully at the memory of someone he had tried so hard to forget. The pain, however, swelled when he thought of Evan. The mental image of Evan rejecting him hurt beyond compare, eating away at every inch of his body. He sighed, and cupped his head with his hands.

* * *

Evan lay on his bed, his head buzzing in exhaustion but sleepless. Sarah lay beside him, her sleeping form moving ever so slightly with each soft snore.

 _He's coming_ , he thought to himself. He heard exactly how Delirious's voice rose by a pitch as he queried about what Luke had said to him – it was the very same rise in his voice that he had whenever he got agitated or excited, the very same way his voice would soar to a different octave whenever they played together. Delirious was definitely upset that Luke spoke to him.

Evan played around with possibilities in his head. He could see little reason why one of his best friends would be so upset at the possibility of him knowing who he was. _Or does he simply never want me to see his face?_

He let out a deep sigh.

Sarah turned slightly, stirring. She frowned, and whispered, "What's wrong, sweetie?"

"Not much. I'm really tired but I can't sleep."

She scooted over, half-asleep, and wrapped her arms around his chest. "Forget whatever you're thinking about for a moment, and you'll sleep…" She trailed off, and a soft snore rose from her sleeping form once again.

Evan smiled weakly. _Oh, what the hell,_ he thought, shutting his eyes as tight as he could and willing himself to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3 - Flight

"This is such a fuckin' terrible idea." Jonathan groaned, clutching his stomach.

"D'you wanna swap seats? It's easier for you to get to the lavatory then." Luke offered. "How're you so damn sick anyway?"

"I don't know, probably because I didn't sleep well or something like that. That does shit to my head sometimes…" Jonathan murmured as he dry-heaved once more.

"Man," Luke began, patting Jonathan's back gently. "How much have you been overreacting the past week? I mean, obviously you were overreacting the whole of last night."

Jonathan groaned. "You know exactly why."

"Damn, Jonathan. Look, if you're so freaked out, I can just introduce you as Johnny to him. He wouldn't suspect a thing."

Jonathan winced slightly, uncomfortable. " _Not_ Johnny. Something else."

Luke stole a hasty glance at him, and quickly continued, "Okay, then how about the second half of your name? Nathan. Or Nate, for short. That's much better, isn't it? I'll call you Nate. Just don't go laughing out loud or anythin' like that, because you're gonna rumble yourself."

"Yeah, I guess…" Jonathan replied, barely finishing as he started to dry-heave again.

"Jesus, dude, just get some sleep or somethin'. We're not due there until like another hour or so."

Jonathan let out a long, deep sigh and shut his eyes tightly, mentally distancing himself from the plane that he was in. Slowly, images began to seep into his mind – dreams that he barely wanted to dream.

" _Jonathan_ ," Liselle breathed softly, her green eyes fixated upon his. " _Your eyes are so pretty._ "

" _They're not,_ " Jonathan bit back, pouting ever so slightly. " _Yours are._ "

She smiled, dimples forming on her cheeks. Gently, she traced his lips with a finger. " _Your lips are so pretty, too. I'm so jealous,_ " she continued, and leaned in, pressing her lips softly against his.

" _Liselle…_ " He murmured against her skin. " _I love you so much…_ "

The kiss slowly grew harsh, their lips mashing against each other's with growing force. " _Jonathan…_ " She whimpered, lifting her head up high, allowing Jonathan to attack at her neck. He kissed her jawline once, and proceeded to nibble away at the soft pale skin of her neck. He felt her squirm, and he ground himself against her, their skins both a thousand degrees.

" _Liselle_ … I…"

She shushed him gently and cupped his face with her hands. " _My pretty man_."

" _My pretty boy_ ," Nick whispered, and two strong arms slithered from behind him and wrapped themselves around his waist. As Jonathan looked back up to where Liselle once was, there was but nothingness and an empty space.

" _Nick?"_ Jonathan called out, gently holding the arms around his waist. " _Nick, I –_ "

" _Quiet, honey, or we'll get into trouble._ " The arms loosened and tore away from Jonathan's body. Eagerly, Jonathan flipped around, only to see Evan behind him, flashing his set of perfect white teeth at him.

" _Evan?_ "

" _My pretty boy,_ " Nick's voice echoed, as Evan approached Jonathan, mouthing the very same words. " _Where did these beautiful blues come from?_ "

" _Nick… Evan…I…_ " Jonathan stammered, uncertain.

Evan drew himself even closer to Jonathan, and began to gently caress the corners of his eyes. " _Your eyes are so blue, I could drown in these oceans._ "

Evan pressed his lips against Jonathan's cheek and murmured softly, as his hands began to wander up Jonathan's thighs, groping and squeezing.

" _Evan…no… Nick…_ " Jonathan whispered, a forbidden desire beginning to manifest itself between his legs –

SMACK.

"OW!" A couple of heads turned to look at Jonathan as his eyes shot open.

"Oh, good, you're awake," Luke grumbled. "Thank god nobody else was listenin'."

"What the hell was that for?!"

"God damn, it was getting uncomfortable." Luke grimaced.

"What do you mean?" Jonathan approached, still fuming.

"We're landing in a few, anyway. Keep your head up."

* * *

The cab ride towards their rented apartment was silent, with the atmosphere between Luke and Jonathan teeming with awkwardness. Luke was remaining tight-lipped about what had happened on the plane, and Jonathan had a nagging feeling about what exactly happened. Simply thinking about the idea that Luke might have heard him make the noises that he made in his dreams sent color flooding furiously into his face.

The silence dragged on even as the cab dropped the duo off at their vacation rental. Even the exquisite furnishing of the small apartment and the upbeat feeling that the apartment had could not defuse the tension between the two.

Finally, however, the silence was broken, as Luke simply murmured, "Go take the room."

"There's only one bedroom, isn't there?" Jonathan asked dryly. "You should take it, then, I'll do fine on the couch."

"The couch isn't gonna make you sleep any better. The bed is, and you need it more than I do."

Jonathan sighed. The stubborn streak in Luke was making itself known, something that he knew he had little strength to resist against. He picked up his luggage and began to head towards a wooden sliding door.

"The apartment's pretty small, so don't do anythin' funny. Especially tonight." Luke mumbled quickly, and began to shuffle about closely behind Jonathan as he hastily busied himself with unpacking. Jonathan felt the color rise back into his cheeks, and hurriedly pulled open the sliding door and headed into the room.

The room was impeccably decorated, with sunlight floating in from windows on every wall. The light color of the room – from the clean white walls to the cool white sheets on the bed – made Jonathan feel as though he was on the beach, with the white sands tickling his skin as the sun bore down on him. For the first time in a long time, he felt fresh and alive.

Throwing down his luggage in a suitable spot on the ground, Jonathan began to unpack. His mind wandered, every now and then – he wondered what exactly Luke had heard him say, and he wondered how Luke was going to tolerate the idea of being within a few steps of his sleeping form every night for the next month or so. He stole a quick glance at the couch, and an uneasiness grew from the idea that Luke might hear his every breath from the couch that was positioned mere footsteps away from the room.

 _I have to talk to him_ , he thought, and dragged his feet as he proceeded to the doorway that barely separated the two.

"Uh, Luke?" Jonathan began.

Luke responded with a grunt as he pulled a laptop out from the depths of his luggage.

"It's gonna be awkward, but…It's best we deal with this now than have you live through over a month like this… uh..." Jonathan drew a deep breath. "What exactly did I say in my sleep?"

Luke froze, his stance that of a perfect statue. When he finally began, his voice was mechanical.

"You didn't… _say_ … anything. Just a whole bunch of…" He seemed to cringe for a moment. " _Moans_. Ugh. Like… the real kind."

Jonathan felt the blood rush into his cheeks, and was half-tempted to turn away from Luke. "Sorry about that, dude."

"And… it wasn't just any kind of…ugh… ya know… but… you were doing it like..." Luke paused, swallowing. "Like a girl would with a guy."

 _Oh, God._

"I'm so sorry, Luke. Really sorry you had to hear that."

Luke turned, his face a mask of annoyance. Soon, however, he cracked into a smile.

"You look fuckin' stupid, bro."

Jonathan reached for a pillow on the couch and threw it hard at Luke. "Now _you_ look fuckin' stupid!"

"Hey, hey, hey, hey – "Luke dodged another pillow that was sent flying in his direction. "Hurry up and finish unpacking, you dumb shit, we've got dinner with Evan and his girl and you don't wanna miss that."

"You're not mad at me anymore, though?" Jonathan queried carefully.

"I'll try not to think about it. Try. Just don't go pullin' any funny shit and remind me of that bullshit again." Luke grinned, and chucked a pillow at him. "NOW HURRY UP AND UNPACK!"

* * *

The restaurant was quieter than usual that night. _Probably because it isn't paycheck time yet_ , Evan mused, as he gestured to the hostess for a place for four. Luke and Delirious were nowhere in sight.

"Shall we just take a seat first, then?" Sarah asked. "We'll wait for them inside."

Evan complied, and the couple seated themselves in a cosy, almost unpopulated area of the restaurant. He unlocked his phone and sent a short text to Luke: "We're already in the restaurant, just come right in and find us."

The wait thus began for his friends, and it was only a short while before he spotted two figures in the distance outside of the windows of the restaurant.

He tensed for a moment as the two figures began to approach – one of them evidently Luke, with his casual stride and poise. The other figure was slender, with a more awkward stance, his steps lacking the enthusiasm that Luke's had. The two men strode through the glass door, gesturing to the hostess that they had company.

Evan drew a sharp breath as he took a good look at the man that he believed was Delirious. He looked like a small, skinny pole beside Luke, his dark hair wild and ever so slightly unkempt against his pale skin. His eyes were wide, uncertain little globes of astounding blues, set deeply into his face. His nose was slightly round, like an adorable nub upon the rest of his features, and his lips were moderately thin, soft mounds of pink.

"Hey, what's up Evan?" Luke greeted, and gestured towards Delirious. "Evan, this is Nathan, Nathan, this is Evan."

Evan held out his hand tentatively, frowning slightly at the name. "Nice to… meet you."

Delirious flashed a small smile and took his hand, shaking it ever so gently. Something in Evan's mind clicked as he felt the long, bony fingers entwine themselves around his hands, sending him into a daze –

"Call me Nate," he said in a small voice, in a voice and tone ever so familiar, yet so distant from Evan's memory of him. His frown deepened momentarily.

"Sarah." Sarah grabbed both Luke's and Delirious's hands, shaking them ever so amicably. "Nice to meet you both."

Dinner was quiet, save for conversations continually started by Sarah. Evan was barely listening as Sarah inquired about life in North Carolina, nor when Sarah probed about their relationships. Evan simply stared blankly at his food, stealing glimpses every now and then of Delirious, as he smiled meekly at Sarah's every other joke.

"Nathan's rather soft-spoken, isn't he?" Sarah noted, nodding at Luke.

"Nah, he's just shy. He's much noisier when you know him better."

"Really!" Sarah whispered in awe. "How was he like when you two first met?"

"Quiet. And then I think I pressed the right buttons and he became a chaotic little punk."

"Hmmh," Sarah hummed. "Speaking of punk, I always called Evan a little bit of a punk, what with all that guitar playing. He doesn't like that much," She giggled.

Evan tried to smile, only to barely pull his lips into a grimace.

"Oh, come on, you grouch," Sarah said, smiling whilst sneaking a kick at his shins from underneath the table. She turned back to the duo and whispered, "He's not always like this, I swear. He's usually a lot nicer."

"Yeah, he usually is," Luke echoed, a small scowl forming upon his face as he glanced at Evan. "He's about to scare Nate away at this rate."

Evan was quickly engulfed in a blaze of anger and shame. Ashamed that he was being ungracious to his friends, and angry at everyone – himself for acting like a douchebag, and especially Luke and Jonathan for keeping up with a lie. Before he could stop himself, he retorted, "I don't really care."

Sarah drew a small, sharp breath, and hastily broke into damage control mode. "Uh, about the bill! We'll settle it, so you two don't have to worry about it! _Come on, Evan!_ "

Sarah tugged at Evan's arm and pushed him towards the cashier's counter.

Luke quickly stood up after them, and thanked them for the dinner. "Thanks for the dinner, guys. We'll uh- get goin' now, it's been a long flight and me and Nate are pretty tired so, yeah… We'll give Evan a call for another day out soon!" He quickly pulled a dazed and suspiciously quiet Delirious out from his seat and put his arm around him, dragging him along as he walked out of the restaurant.

As soon as the duo were out of earshot, Sarah smacked Evan hard on his shoulder, causing him to wince slightly.

"That was mean of you." She chided, pouting. "I know you're meeting Nate for the first time, but you're usually way nicer than that!"

Evan stared at her sharply. "No, I'm not."

"You are. All the time. You're especially nice to strangers. Remember Halloween? You just straight up turned into a sickeningly sweet yes-man at the party."

"I didn't!"

"Really? I don't remember my darling being an alcohol-crazy freak. But you just couldn't say no to all those drinks they offered you, at all. You were perfectly nice, and overly open to all those people."

Evan glared at her, and turned away finally in a sulk. Sarah grinned triumphantly at him, and as the cashier handed the receipt to him, she half-snatched it out of his hands and began to drag him out of the restaurant.

"You've got to apologize, sweetie. I don't know what got into you today, but whatever it was, you weren't playing nice today. So be nice and apologize soon, okay?"

Evan nodded sourly, his mind still hazy and his heart still heavy. _Apologize. And learn the truth_.

* * *

 _I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I've already started work on the next chapter, and I've got quite a bit planned out, so forgive me for a little bit of a wait. Again, I hope you enjoyed!_


	4. Chapter 4 - Proximity

"What the hell, Evan?" Luke half-screamed at him over the line. "Really, I bring Nate –"

" _Delirious_." Evan interjected, annoyed.

"Fine, Delirious." Luke's voice became soft, almost inaudible as he said the name, and he paused for a moment before continuing in a near-whisper, "I bring him and that's how you treat him? Where's the warm welcome for your friend? Moreover, where's the warm welcome for _Delirious_?"

"I don't see why you have to cover for him and let him _be_ Delirious. It's not as if he's revealing his face to the whole wide world, is he? It's just me and Sarah. Doesn't he at the very least trust me?" Evan seethed, the anger beginning to pound through his veins again.

"He has a right to _not_ trust you. He's smarter than you think, you know. He sees the possibilities that you probably don't, and I think it'd be damn nice if you respected his reasons, too."

Evan sighed, but no relief from frustration or anger came from it. "I feel lied to, Luke."

"And he's suffering. He hasn't said anythin' about it, but he's been so worried. Worried that you wouldn't like him, that you wouldn't want him around. Worried that you would act somethin' like the way you did."

A long pause followed his words. Evan swallowed, speechless. On the other end of the line, however, soft whispering ensued.

"Luke?" Evan called out, his anger only dissipating slightly. "What's going on?"

A different voice, however, answered him. "Hi, Evan."

Evan paused, his voice caught in his throat. The voice sounded uncertain, almost sad, as though the voice was confessing his biggest sins to him. A slight, dull ache tugged away at Evan's chest, unwilling to budge.

"Oh, uh- Hi… _Nate_."

The voice on the line let out a soft, pitiful sigh, before he continued –

"Jonathan."

"Jonathan." Evan repeated.

"Oh, God… I'm so scared, Evan." Jonathan whispered, his voice breaking.

"Jonathan." Evan repeated once more, a small, coy smile beginning to play on his lips.

"Evan…" Jonathan whimpered again, this time softer than before.

"Jonathan…" Evan repeated one final time, unable to contain his smile anymore. "God, it still feels weird to call you by your real name." He chuckled.

Jonathan breathed softly and slowly, a soft laugh beginning to erupt from the depths of his chest. _He's not mad anymore_ , he thought. Relief spread throughout every inch of his formerly tense body, and he gently closed his eyes.

"Then say it a couple more times," He teased in a low voice.

"Shut up," Evan replied. "Look, dude, I'm really sorry I acted like a dick."

"And I'm sorry I lied and pretended to be who I wasn't."

"So we're both sorry. Now we're even." Evan responded. "Damn it, dude, I can't stay mad at you long, do you know that?"

"I'm adorable," Jonathan giggled.

Evan paused for a second, before retorting, "Yeah, like a big _baby_. Where's Luke?"

"Probably making out with what used to be my bed. I told him to give me the phone. I needed to explain myself. _Badly_. I was so afraid you were gonna stay mad at me, I couldn't help it any longer." Jonathan explained. "Look – the reason why I didn't want you to know who I am… it's because I'm so scared, Evan… I don't know how you'll like me… but even more than that, I don't know how many people will look at you, me and Luke and piece it all together."

"You don't trust me, then."

"No, no- no! That's not it," Jonathan bit his lip. "I- I just don't trust your _popularity_."

"Then, you big dumb baby," Evan replied, almost laughing, "you'll have to remember that I'm not _that_ famous. Even if I _am_ _that_ famous, you're not the only friend that I have that I can hang out with. Not everybody's mind is going to jump to you, even if Luke is around. To everyone else, you could be anyone."

"And if they do? I'd be busted."

"You're already busted. H2O Delirious already did a face reveal on Halloween, no?"

Jonathan giggled, his chest rising and falling in the warmth of the joy. His heart was making little leaps at every sound that Evan made over the phone, yet – there was an alarm going off silently in his head, flashing a panic-filled red every once in a while.

"Uh, look, I wanted to ask if you guys wanted to join me and Sarah out on the beach later this week. It'll be nice and fun, and you'll finally get to see some California sun… and get a damn tan," Evan rambled.

"I barely ever get tans, dude. I go red all over but I never come out with a tan."

"Then I'll _make_ you get a tan. You look like a fucking vampire, dude, minus the lack of sleep thing. No, actually… you just look like a fucking vampire, you barely even sleep."

"Shut up," Jonathan snapped playfully. "You're the _night owl_."

A hearty laugh bubbled from the other end of the line. "Go sleep, Jonathan. It's been a long day for you. Tell Luke we're going to the beach soon and I'll give him another call the day before."

"What if – what if I'm not tired, yet?" Jonathan asked, stifling a yawn mid-sentence.

Another warm, hearty laugh. "Go to bed, Jonathan. _Sleep tight_."

The line went silent.

 _Sleep tight, he said_. Jonathan smiled, ignoring the silent alarms in his head and shut his eyes tight, embracing an oddly warm darkness for the first time in forever.

* * *

As the day for the beach outing rolled around, Jonathan's mind was caught in a whirl. He had never worried too much about his attire or his dressing before, but he was caught in a dilemma. _What on earth do I wear_?

He rummaged through his luggage that was now haphazardly placed right by the sliding door. All throughout were shades of blue and white, and as he flipped through countless jeans, capris, shirts and hoodies, a realization dawned upon him that none of clothes seemed like practical, let alone fashionable beach wear. The hoodies were definitely too thick, and he had nothing suitable for any activity near or even in the sea.

He stood up, uncertain, and pulled open the sliding door. Luke lay spread-eagle on the bed, his mouth slightly open, revealing a set of pearly-whites that were nearly perfect, if not for the presence of a miniature, baby-like tooth.

"Luke?" Jonathan started, louder than usual. He watched as Luke twitched slightly, only to fall back into a deep slumber. Shaking his head slightly, he called out again –

"Luke!"

A small snore began to form on Luke's lips. Annoyed, Jonathan aimed a kick directly at the foot of the bed and yelled at the top of his lungs – "LUUUUUUUKE!"

Luke instantly sat straight up, completely and evidently dazed, as though his soul had left his body. He blinked, once, twice, thrice, and as his spirits began to return, he growled darkly, "What d'you want?"

"Something to wear to the beach."

"Just wear one of your T-shirts," Luke grumbled, frowning as he collapsed back onto the bed.

"No, I meant – just in case we're going to end up in the sea – I don't have anything for that."

"You're not goin' surfing, pal.

"I'm not saying that I will. I just don't have anything that I can wear safely into water _and not ruin it_."

Luke opened his eyes and stared at him straight in the face, frowning. "What's up with you today? First big date with _Evan_?"

"Shut it. Do you have something or no?" Jonathan bit back, a light blush forming on his pale cheeks.

"Nope. Go shirtless or somethin'." Luke answered grouchily, and pulled the comforter over his head.

Jonathan simply stared at the form under the covers, a mild fire burning in his eyes.

" _The couch ain't gonna make you sleep any better, the bed is, and you need it more than I do_ ," He mimicked.

"The bed's hella comfy!" Luke nearly yelled from underneath the comforter.

"Yeah, whatever, broken promises," Jonathan rolled his eyes and sidled out from the room. _What the hell am I going to wear_?

* * *

Hours later, Luke dragged Jonathan out of the rental apartment, with Jonathan decked out in a thin sky-blue shirt and a pair of capri pants. In an authoritative tone, Luke began to instruct Jonathan very carefully on the dos and don'ts of the day –

"The sun's pretty damn strong today, so make sure you're always drowning in sunscreen. And don't you dare try to waddle into the water, 'cos I ain't gonna help you salvage this shirt."

Jonathan pouted and said in a small voice, "I didn't want to wear this one for a reason."

"It's your best bet if you don't wanna turn into a lobster and not overheat at the same time, so shut up and suck it up."

Jonathan scowled and made a face at Luke, just as a shiny black car drove up to them in the driveway.

"Get in, ladies," Evan called out smoothly, lowering his aviator sunglasses in a charming invitation. Sarah's soft giggle sounded from behind him, and he beamed at the two men, his smile wide, white and perfect. Jonathan felt his heart flip and skip a few beats, before setting off into a fast race.

"C'mon," Luke pushed, and the two settled themselves into the cool air-conditioned car.

"So," Sarah turned to face Jonathan, "Nate- "

"Jonathan," he sighed.

"Oh, good, it's Jonathan now? I didn't like 'Nate'". Sarah flashed a toothy grin. "So, Jonathan, how good are you at beach volleyball?"

"Terrible. Luke might have more in him."

"Aww, give it a try at least? Evan can guide you and everything."

"It's alright, really. I don't want to ruin your game. I'll probably – uh – make sandcastles near the sea, or something."

From the corners of his eyes, he saw Luke glare at him sharply.

"Whatever you say, sweet pea." Sarah grinned wider. "You'll be playing, right, Luke?"

"Sure thing."

She turned back, looking ahead of her. "It's been some time since we had good company like that. Evan's usually so busy playing, I wondered when I'd get to see the sun again."

"You make it sound like I don't treat you well." Evan responded with a pout as he turned towards Sarah momentarily, and he quickly returned his eyes to the road.

"You treat me the best." She quipped, and reached over to gently kiss him on the cheek.

A surge of dull pain shot through Jonathan's heart in the moment, and the dull, throbbing hurt was soon replaced by guilt. _I shouldn't feel like this_ , he mused, and began to force his lips into a smile. _I'm happy for them, aren't I? He's happy and she's happy. I'm happy_.

He turned his head, attempting to distract himself with the sights and views of Los Angeles as the car whizzed past various buildings, creating a whirl of colors before his eyes. As the sunlight hit various metallic objects and cars, the scene before him sparkled, as though he was watching a rainbow-colored night sky with stars glimmering and glittering away. The sight was mesmerizing, yet, however, calmed him very little.

The buildings slowly vanished and the view ahead had a warm, yellowish tint about it. Trees became increasingly populous, and soon a line of blue appeared ahead of them. The sea sparkled in the distance, a perfect blue against the off-white sand.

Evan pulled over, making the proper adjustments to the vehicle before he turned the engine off and pulled the key out of the ignition. "We're here," he announced.

The four stepped out of the cool of the car and into the outdoor warmth. The sun blazed in the cloudless sky, illuminating their faces. Sarah's expression was immensely bright, as was her smile. After she adjusted her halter top, she broke out in a sprint towards a high, white net in the distance excitedly. "Hurry up and let's get started!"

Evan watched as she stepped into the blazing sunlight, her lightly tanned skin shimmering. As she ran, he watched as her light brown hair swayed in the wind, with a slightly forlorn sense coming about it. "Evan!" She yelled, her laughter loud and clear despite the distance. Smiling, he pulled off his top, carefully avoiding his sunglasses, and gestured for Jonathan and Luke to follow.

As they approached the net, Sarah pulled a volleyball from nowhere and threw it straight at Evan. Catching it, he frowned and called out, "Am I supposed to start?"

"It's not fair if you're asking _me_ to start."

Evan sighed, and turned towards the two men behind him, only to find that they were having an exchange of their own in low voices a small distance away. He approached them, listening carefully –

"You are _not_ gonna go into the sea with that shirt on. You are not gonna even go _close_ -"

"What do you expect me to do, Luke? It's either ruin it or risk –"

"Um, take your shirt off then?" Evan piped up, feeling his cheeks slowly burn away as he did. "No shirts ruined that way."

It was Jonathan's turn to blush. "I – uh – I _burn_ quite easily… so… it's easier if I don't. I'll turn into Nogla if I stay out there too long shirtless." Jonathan laughed uncomfortably.

"Better than having the sun roast you a little than having Luke skin you," Evan glanced at Luke, who shot back a deadly stare. _Sorry,_ he mouthed. "If it makes you feel better, I'll help with the sunscreen."

He watched as Jonathan began to stammer, his face turning a bright beet red. "I – I – I'll do it myself, uh –"

Jonathan shot a pleading glance at Luke. Almost on cue, Luke's expression changed, and he spoke over Jonathan –

"Thanks Evan, but I'll help him get his back."

Evan gazed after the duo as they shuffled to a spot under a tree nearby the net, his eyes never leaving Jonathan's back, even as he slowly began to walk back towards Sarah. He watched as Jonathan gingerly pulled the sky blue top off his body, revealing a pale, well-defined torso. His eyes followed as the shirt left his the mass of dark hair on Jonathan's head, and he could have sworn for a moment right before Jonathan turned away, obstructing his view, that he saw a deep red blush spread across his cheeks.

"Wow," Sarah breathed, appearing by Evan's side. "So _that_ 's what we haven't been seeing."

A series of tattoos ran down from behind Jonathan's neck, curving down his right shoulder blade and creeping its way down to his right arm, ending right where his sleeves concealed it. Black geometric patterns were conceivable from the dark mass, each pattern forming a small picture, undiscernible in the distance.

"Hurry up with the sweet tattoos, Luke," Sarah called out. "We're about to start!"

Luke nodded absentmindedly, as he squirted out a stream of white sunscreen onto his palm from a small tube and passed the tube over to Jonathan. As he ran his hands across Jonathan's back, an odd, incomprehensible desire arose within Evan, setting off a muted flame in his chest. It was as though he was barely conscious when Sarah grabbed his arm and decided to start a game with him first, unable to wait for Luke to finish.

"Aw, come on, sweetie," Sarah groaned as he failed to return the ball for the umpteenth time. "I know it's been some time since you played, but you're doing far worse than before."

"Big guy ain't good enough for you?" Luke teased, patting Evan's shoulder as he approached.

"He's _awful_." She pouted. "The last time he was so out of it was when he first played."

"Should I play against you then? Then he can go and take a nice rest. And build some _sandcastles_ ," Luke said, playfully emphasizing on the final word. Evan flipped him the bird and stepped away from the white net, biting his lip. His eyes slowly scanned the area for the only other person he could spend some time with – Jonathan.

The man in question was kneeling near the waters, utilizing a small, misshaped cup in his building efforts. He grabbed a small handful of wet sand and gently packed it into the cup, and gently dumped it back onto the ground, forming a malformed cylinder that soon collapsed back onto the ground, joining a family of little collapsed sand towers around him.

Evan walked slowly over to Jonathan, and knelt down in front of him. As he did, Jonathan's eyes sauntered up his legs and up his torso, meeting Evan's eyes with an uncertain embarrassment.

"You're not playing anymore?" Jonathan asked, his fingers tracing away at the sand beneath him thoughtlessly.

"I got kicked out. Sucked really hard today."

A small giggle formed on Jonathan's lips, and just as he looked as though he would speak, he closed his mouth and smiled to himself.

"Fuck you." Evan retorted to the unspoken comment, as Jonathan barely held back another wave of giggles.

"You look like you're being surrounded by a bunch of collapsed castles." Evan continued.

Jonathan looked around him sadly. "I thought wet sand was good to work with, but it kept sticking to the cup."

"So use dry sand."

"Dry sand collapses even easier."

Evan smirked. "You know your sandcastles well, huh?"

"I've been building them since I was a kid. Always would get shoved aside because the big kids thought I was too small or too frail to play with them."

"You're not small and frail _now_." Evan murmured softly, his eyes fixated on the deep blue eyes of the man before him. The effect was almost instantaneous – Jonathan averted his eyes and gazed down on the sand, a blush beginning to burn on his face once again. As Evan watched Jonathan become increasingly flustered, it was almost as though a door had been opened in his chest, releasing something that had been caged up for far too long. He _liked_ it.

"I'm not, I know that…But I'm just doing what I know. It's a lot easier, that way."

"Let's try this." Evan said quickly, and gathered up a handful of wet sand on the ground in a pile. Gently, he began molding the sand as he would with wet clay, and formed a miniature sand plateau in front of Jonathan. "That works, right?"

Jonathan nodded, his dark hair gently swaying with the movement. He grabbed a handful of sand and gently placed it atop Evan's plateau, and slowly molded it into another misshaped cylinder. Evan began to laugh –

"What is wrong with you? Even without the cup, you're forming terrible towers."

"It's not – I can't –" Jonathan stammered.

It was then that Evan noticed that his hands were trembling ever so slightly, with each effort to mold the sand into shape thwarted by a tremor caused by Jonathan's shaking hands. He frowned, and reached out to cup Jonathan's hands with his.

"What on earth is the matter with you? You're panicking over nothing. Look," Evan began to gently guide Jonathan's hands over the sand, easing his still-shaking fingers over the coarse grains with finesse. Under their hands, the cylindrical shape began to shift into form.

"Et voilà." Evan murmured under his breath, his hands still gently holding onto Jonathan's. He enjoyed the momentary warmth of Jonathan's thin fingers pressed against his palm, and relished the small electric sparks that seemed to go off at every point of contact in their hands.

"Evan…" Jonathan whispered, his voice almost inaudible as Sarah's voice soon reached both their ears –

"Evan!"

Evan quickly released Jonathan's hands from his grasp and turned. "What?!" He called back, his voice tinged with a slight annoyance.

"We've found someone to play doubles with! Come back!"

Evan sighed softly and stood up almost reluctantly, and began walking back towards the net where Sarah, Luke, and a dark-skinned stranger stood. As he drew closer to Sarah, she greeted him with a warm smile and a flurry of encouraging words barely audible in the distance.

Jonathan stared after him, mentally willing his heart to slow down. Tearing his eyes away from Evan, he tried to focus on the half-finished sandcastle, gently forming another cylinder beside the first. His mind, however, kept wandering as he thought about the formation of the first tower, and finally, Jonathan stood, thoroughly exasperated with himself.

He wandered closer towards the waters, and gently dipped a foot into the seawater, as he felt a wave of soft foamy water splash against the other. An urge to wander deeper rolled over him, and he trudged heavily into the deeper waters, allowing the cool, clear water to wash against his body. He was soon swimming about in the sea, deriving an odd sense of freedom from the way he floated about in the water. It was a sense of liberation, one that calmed him and sent all of his nervous thoughts into a small corner of his mind. _One with the water_ , he thought.

Jonathan swam about in the sea, unsure of how much time he had spent, or if the sunscreen on his face and on his body was still in effect. All he knew was that his skin, particularly on his face and on his arms and back, was beginning to really sting and hurt – even more so with the salt water thrashing against him. He waded hurriedly out of the sea, and took a long, careful look at his arms.

His arms seemed as though they were painted over in dull red paint. _Shit_ , he thought. He was burning, and he needed badly to hide it – especially from Luke.

Jonathan decided to make a beeline for the showering area, and he quickly hurried past the volleyball players, grabbing his shirt and a small survival kit Luke had brought with him with him as he passed the tree. His skin was beginning to itch as the salt water dried, and he needed to rinse his body as soon as he could. He scanned the area quickly, and found a small showering area a small distance away from the net.

He settled the belongings down in a dry area, and hurriedly twisted a knob, sending a shower of cold, fresh water down upon his head. He lingered, allowing the water to wash away the saltiness on his skin. Soon, he was soaked, but clean for the most part. _The next problem_ , he thought, _is the burn_. _What the hell am I going to do about it_?

He dried off with a small towel packed into the survival kit, patting gently away at the redder and more sensitive areas of his skin. Determining that there was nothing to do about his now-soaked, sagging pants, he simply tried to squeeze out whatever water he could from the hem. Rummaging through the small bag, he found a tube of aloe packed in. _He thinks of everything_. Jonathan quickly uncapped the tube and squirted a healthy amount of aloe onto his palm, and gingerly began to apply it over his face and his arms.

"Are you alright?" A voice softly called out from behind him. Jonathan jumped slightly, and turned to see Evan looking straight at him, a look of concern flashing in his deep brown eyes.

"S- Sort of," Jonathan choked out after a pause.

"I doubt so," Evan replied. "I could've sworn I saw a lobster sneak away into the showers. What happened to the sunscreen?"

"Must've washed away in the sea." Jonathan looked away, and tried to focus on applying the aloe to his exposed skin.

"Let me help you," Evan breathed as he settled himself beside Jonathan, and held out his hand. Reluctantly, Jonathan passed him the tube of aloe. He watched as Evan squeezed out a generous amount of aloe and gently urged him to turn around. Jonathan turned, his heart hammering away in his chest.

He felt as Evan placed his palms against his back, and he shivered as the cool gel was spread all over his burning back. As he felt the coolness spread over his right shoulder, he heard Evan emit a small, low hum.

"What?" Jonathan asked.

"That's an interesting tattoo." Evan replied brusquely. "I don't understand the patterns though."

"It's… something someone introduced to me before. They're bits of me all entwined together into one big picture. My 'energy', apparently."

"Hmm." Evan hummed softly once more. "Unusual, but fitting, I guess."

Jonathan, however, was barely listening. His mind was clouded over by a soft voice tingling in his memories –

" _This right here,_ " Nick softly whispered as he traced his fingers over the picture, " _is you._ "

" _I'm not a bunch of lines that look vaguely like… some animal._ "

" _It's not an animal. It's a little bit of everything that's you. This right here…what does it look like?_ "

" _Uh… eyes…?_ "

" _Yours._ "

"Jonathan." Evan's voice broke into his thoughts. "What are these?"

He felt as Evan's fingers traced down to his lower back, to an area that sent him reflexively turning around, leaving his back away from Evan.

"It's nothing," Jonathan mutter quickly. "I'm fine now, so – go back and play with them, or somethin' –"

Evan frowned. "That doesn't look normal, Jonathan. What happened to you?"

"I'm _fine_! Now go!" Jonathan stood up and pushed at Evan, urging him to move. Finally, Evan commanded his reluctant legs to walk away from the showering area. As he left, he called out to Jonathan one final time –

"Show Luke you got sunburned, or I'm telling him. Get a dry pair of pants that aren't sagging like they are now and don't take too long."

Evan walked slowly, his mind, his chest and his legs all heavy. He had seen countless injuries and scars in his life, most of them sports injuries – and he knew exactly what the marks on the lower portion of Jonathan's back were. He had traced his fingers over the dark, circular marks that lay just slightly below his waistline, hidden by the capris before, and felt the tenderness and the tightness of the skin. He had seen the same sort of injury, albeit a fresh one, before. Red circles with an almost white patch in the middle that healed over time into dark patches.

Somewhere, sometime in Jonathan's life, someone had held him down and sadistically pressed cigarettes into his lower back.

* * *

 _Chapter 4 came tumbling out faster than I thought it would. Ah, well! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'll start on Chapter 5 soon!_


	5. Chapter 5 - Anticipation

"How are you _still_ a lobster?" Evan laughed as Luke and a mildly red Jonathan approached.

"You mean, how _even_ he is gettin' better," Luke corrected, annoyed. "The last time he got burnt like that, I was certain he had gotten a full body tattoo."

A few days had flown by since the beach outing. Jonathan had survived Luke's initial outburst at him the moment he saw the reddening skin on Jonathan's body, and he had survived the sting and the burn of the initial stages of sunburn. His skin had peeled and healed, but the redness was only beginning to fade.

"And you still don't have a tan. At least it doesn't seem like you're getting one," Evan said as he surveyed Jonathan's face and arms quickly.

"I never get one. Ever." Jonathan reminded him. He looked around as he and Luke both settled into the seats opposite Evan. "Smells good in here."

"You should try the steaks. They're great." Evan smiled, almost gleefully at him.

"Are _you_ going to have them though?"

"Nah, I'm trying to keep up with the routine now. It's so good, I'll probably fall off the wagon once I have it."

"What rout-" Jonathan began, and soon realized what Evan meant. "Oh."

"Yeah. I've already ordered, so it's all your orders now," Evan replied as he stood, heading towards the bathrooms.

"You're staring." Luke's voice warned sharply, sending Jonathan's eyes driving straight back from Evan into the opposite direction.

"I wasn't." Jonathan bit back, flushing.

"You were. And you were staring that day at the beach, too. Even _before_ we were there." The disapproval in Luke's voice was undeniable.

"So what? He's noticeable. Why the fuck are you so riled up, Luke?"

"Because I care, and I'm worried." Luke answered simply, and paused for a good long while before he began again. "Look, I brought you here to get away from thinkin' about Liselle. You've done well so far, I'll admit, but now you're thinkin' about _Evan_. I could care less who you think about, really, but this is _Evan_. He's our friend, and he has a Sarah."

"Get to the point, Luke."

"My point is, if you go on like this, someone's gonna to get hurt. And it's happened before, so you can't say I'm worried for nothing."

Jonathan's eyes widened as a memory that he had furiously suppressed clouded his mind momentarily. His breath caught itself in his throat, and a feeling of constriction wrapped around his chest. The discomfort quickly transformed into anger within him, boiling through every droplet of blood in his body.

"Jonathan." Luke called out darkly. "There's no use staring at me like that. You know I'm right."

 _He's right_ , a soft voice echoed about in his head, and he mentally willed the muscles that he had involuntarily tensed up to relax. He began to pace his breathing slowly and steadily, counting in his head.

"Would you gentlemen like to order?" A waitress asked, staring down at the two with a notepad and a pencil in her hands.

Almost instantly, Luke's demeanor changed. As he flashed her a brilliant smile, and replied in an overly amicable tone –

"Ah, yes. Our friend mentioned that the steaks here are fantastic."

"We have gotten some rave reviews on the ribeye, sir. Would you like those?"

"Sure, two of them, both medium."

"And sides?"

"Baked rice and onion rings." Luke gently nudged Jonathan, drawing him out of his stupor.

"Uh – mashed potatoes and salad."

"Okay. Anything else?"

"No, we're good for now. Thanks," Luke beamed once more, and received an equally brilliant, yet shy smile in return. As the waitress walked away to key in their orders, the overt friendliness slowly dissipated.

"You alright, or are you still angry?" He queried in a low voice.

"Hopping mad." Jonathan murmured as he turned back towards Luke, and cracked a warm, genuine smile. Luke quickly returned his smile with his own.

"What're you ladies up to?" Evan asked as he scooted back up into his seat.

"What the fuck were you doin', taking so long in the bathroom?" Luke asked incredulously. "Were you tugging on your –"

He broke off into a united giggle with Jonathan. Evan quickly caught on, and scowled. "Fuck you guys."

The two laughed even harder, and Evan rolled his eyes, annoyed. "Did you guys manage to order?"

"Two slabs for meat, just for you." Jonathan giggled.

"For you, you mean. You're eating those," Evan retorted, raising an eyebrow. "Bet you'd love that."

This time, it was Jonathan's turn to scowl. "Fuck you," he replied, and burst into a series of giggles again.

"No, listen." Evan began, the playful grit in his voice gone. "I called up a resort earlier, and I booked a small resort house nearby the coast for the next weekend. I thought it'd be nice to have a holiday of my own, and maybe you guys can join in."

"It's… gonna be really weird if it's supposed to be your holiday with Sarah, dude." Luke commented.

"Well, here's the thing. I gave her a call straight after that, and she's dead busy until a week or two before Christmas. So… I called Craig instead, and he's up for it."

Jonathan gulped, an uneasiness beginning to rise in his chest. He would have to meet Craig. _Another friend._ Another person from their little group of friends that would create even more attention than he ever needed. He grimaced slightly, and looked away towards a waiter that was approaching their table with three dishes.

The waiter gently placed the dishes in front of the three men, each steaming and emanating a delicious scent from them. Evan thanked the waiter, and turned his gaze towards Jonathan once more, and answered his unspoken thoughts -

"It's alright, you know. Craig knows you well enough to keep his mouth shut and his cameras turned away. Besides, all we'll probably be doing is having barbeques, swimming, watching movies and shit like that. Nobody's looking."

Jonathan nodded, his chest slowly easing. Evan's voice had an incredibly assuring tone and quality to it, gently soothing every nerve that tensed up in his body. At the very same time, however, the way Evan had spoken had involuntarily made a different of muscle in his chest tense up and begin to race.

"Well, I'm not going to wait for you guys. I'm tucking in!" Evan announced, and cut into his grilled chicken salad joyfully. Jonathan watched as Evan gingerly lifted the small piece of chicken that dangled from his fork to his lips, and as Evan parted his lips, revealing a set of straight, white teeth. Evan bit gently into the small piece of chicken, wetting his lips gently as he did, inflaming a small, burning desire to caress them within Jonathan. The sight of Evan eating would have been a casual event for any other person, but Jonathan was left immensely lost and mesmerized by the scene. _I could watch him forever_ , he thought to himself.

It was only until Luke had taken a good couple of bites before he noticed Jonathan's distracted blankness, and he gently nudged Jonathan's leg with his own. "Food's gettin' cold, and you're gettin' obvious," he whispered as he shoved another bite of the steak into his mouth.

Jonathan blinked, and reluctantly tore his eyes away from Evan once more. He tore into the piece of steak in front of him, and perhaps it was his own wishful thinking – but for a small moment, as he began to eat, he thought he felt a pair of warm, appreciative eyes boring into his lowered head.

"Uh… so," Evan broke the silence. "We've got to record some stuff tonight. Are you guys up for some Dead Realm?"

"I don't know about that. I've got some playthroughs to catch up on," Luke answered, his mouth full. "I'll see if I can get it finished before I join you guys."

"Jonathan?"

"I'm good." Jonathan raised his head and looked directly at Evan, sending Evan straight into peals of laughter.

"What?"

Evan lifted a napkin from the side of the table and reached over to Jonathan, dabbing gently at the corner of his lips. Jonathan felt the heat begin to flood into his cheeks, and as Evan pulled away, he willed his eyes to dart down again, embarrassed.

"You're the messiest eater I've seen since Nogla. Well, given the state of you now… You _are_ Nogla… Ow!"

Jonathan aimed a kick at Evan's shin from underneath the table, annoyed.

* * *

"Do you really think you can take it?" Luke asked as he poked his head out from behind the sliding door. "An entire weekend with Evan in close quarters?"

Jonathan shrugged. "It's just a weekend, isn't it? It should be fine. It's not like I'm hopelessly _in love_ or something."

Luke shook his head and shrank back behind the sliding door. As he began to slide it shut, he warned once again, "Be careful, man. Tell Evan I refuse to be anywhere near you at night. And try to keep your screaming down."

Jonathan switched on his laptop and plugged in his headset, and waited patiently as the system fully started up. When it did, he saw the Skype icon on his taskbar flash, as messages were furiously being exchanged amongst the group.

"Am I late?" He asked as he joined in the call and started up the game.

"Yeah, get in the game now!" Brock replied.

"Wait. Delirious hasn't seen the grandma before, right?" Nogla caught up in excitement. "He wasn't there when we were playing as the saggy tits grandma."

" _Nobody_ needs to see the saggy tits banshee, Nogla, it's just you." Craig deadpanned.

"Are you guys all connected?" Evan inquired, and everyone in the call replied with an affirmative.

The game soon began, with Tyler as the ghost.

"Come here, come here, come here," Evan's voice came echoing through Jonathan's headset. Jonathan complied, and followed after Evan's character into a small spot behind a stack of blocks. After a few short moments of their characters shuffling about, Jonathan cracked.

"Damn it, Vanoss, your hole is way too tight!" He smirked.

The participants of the call burst into a loud wave of laughter, and Tyler managed to choke out between laughs, "That is by far the weirdest thing I have ever heard you say to Evan!"

The laughter continued as Jonathan continued, "Evan, move – I can't – I can't shove myself in –"

"Delirious! Stop saying shit like that or the grandma's going to find us both!"

"Grandma's already found you both, bitch!" Tyler yelled triumphantly as a withered white old lady flashed in front of Jonathan's screen, causing Jonathan to jump in his seat and yell frightfully. Not long after, Evan's restrained scream filled his ears, indicating that he too had gotten caught.

"God damn it, Delirious, it's all your fault!" Evan mock-whined.

"How's it my fault, _you_ picked the tightest spot on the whole map!"

"You spent so much time trying to squeeze yourself into a tiny-ass hole!" Evan groaned, piqued.

Uncontrolled sniggering came from the other four, and Jonathan soon caught up and began laughing as well. Evan groaned softly, "Oh god. That's your fault too, Delirious."

"What?!" Jonathan shouted.

"Was he squeezing into a tiny asshole or _your_ tiny asshole?" Nogla joked.

A long pause followed, and Craig bemoaned, "Why do you have to be weird, Nogla?"

"Hey, Evan rarely does shit that lets us give him shit very often." Tyler reasoned, and proceeded to reap Nogla. "GOTCHA BITCH!"

"Yeah," Brock chuckled, his voice still calm amongst Nogla's angered gibberish. "Remember when Tyler's voice broke in that video and you guys called him out on it? Then Evan did it in another one but nobody noticed or said a thing."

"No it _didn't_ ," Evan answered, his voice rough from the strain. "You guys are just looking for stuff to throw in my direction now."

"Hey, you've made me an' Delirious the butt monkeys of the team for so long, we just want ta' change it a little bit, ya know?"

Jonathan giggled softly. It was definitely enjoyable teasing Evan for once, given how many times he had been the chew toy of the group. What made the experience an entire degree more enjoyable, however, was listening to the little flustered noises that Evan made as he lost his composure. It was like an interesting sort of music to his ears, and momentarily, Jonathan caught himself thinking - _he's adorable_.

"It's still Delirious's fault." Evan said, as though he was in a sulk.

"What the hell did I do?"

"You've infected me with your dirty talk!"

"Evan, the way you're saying it sounds like you've caught something from Delirious," Tyler snickered, and began to mimic – "You've _infected_ me with your dirty talk!"

Evan groaned, and went silent. It was only some time later when he finally spoke again, this time as he caught Brock underneath a table, laughing maniacally as Brock half-screamed in terror.

"How did you see me?" Brock questioned. "I was so well hidden!"

"On my screen, your ass was poking out from the sides."

"Geez, Evan, what's it with you and asses today?" Craig scoffed.

"Hey, they're great, okay, Brock just had an extra nice one that I caught."

"Sounds like Evan really likes his ass." Jonathan ribbed.

"And who was it that was talking about squeezing inside an asshole?" Evan retorted.

"That was _you_!" Nogla deflected, sending everyone into wild laughter once again.

Evan sighed softly. "How does Delirious and Nogla manage to laugh this kind of stuff off again?"

"Simple." Jonathan responded. "Don't let it get to you, and know that everyone else is having fun because of you."

"Wow. That's actually something smart that came out of your mouth for once, Delirious." Tyler joked.

Jonathan smiled, falling right back into a routine of appreciation for Tyler despite him picking on Jonathan ever so often during gameplay.

Over the next few rounds, screams, shouts, yells and unrestrained laughter were but common occurrences. Evan and Jonathan would hide together in constricted areas, and laugh themselves silly whenever one of them got caught off guard.

The same was happening once again as Brock played the ghost. This time, Jonathan and Evan hid behind a painting, each flanking the sides of it. As Evan stood still, Jonathan decided to place a decoy where he once stood and positioned himself beside Evan instead.

"What're you doing, man? This is so obvious! Just watch – he'll catch us the moment he sees that." Evan grumbled in a low voice.

"Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope," Jonathan tried to sound assuring. "Just do what I did, and then- and then come right through here with me."

Jonathan directed his character to open up a small hidden space not too far away from their original hiding spots, and he was followed closely by Evan. Once the two were in the area, Jonathan closed up the hidden space, leaving the two in the small area all alone, and their characters almost kissing in the darkness.

"Delirious and Evan are probably in like some closet together or something," Craig commented a short moment after he was reaped.

"I know, I'm looking through them all to find them." Brock replied. "You guys do know my whole video is going to be full of Evan and Delirious hiding together now, right?"

"Like literally every other video of ours they'll be hiding together anyway, so it doesn't matter." Nogla said in his regular murmur. All of a sudden, a stream of incomprehensible noises came from his end, and the call was soon drowned out by laughter.

"Well, Nogla got caught, Evan and Delirious are in a closet somewhere and I'm going to die now!" Tyler shouted. A loud wail soon came from Tyler, and another portrait flickered red on Jonathan's screen, leaving only one other portrait in its original colors.

"They're going to find us," Evan complained. "This idea is a terrible idea, they know where we are!"

"They're not going to find us!" Jonathan yelled, and clicked on his right mouse button momentarily, only to see the radar flashing red and contradicting him in every way.

"You bitches are in here!" Tyler shouted gleefully, and continued – "GOT YOU BITCHES!"

A silence followed his words, and Evan guffawed, "You got a decoy, bitch!"

"Nope, Tyler, I got 'em." Nogla replied, and Jonathan's screen was suddenly filled with the image of a large anthromorphic wolf clawing away at his character. He screamed, and broke into a maniacal laughter – one that sent Evan running in the opposite direction of Nogla, only to be tagged out by Brock within mere moments.

"You _idiot_ , Delirious, that was a terrible idea!"

"I know, I know… but we got caught last, that says something."

"Yeah…" Evan sighed. "I think I've got enough footage for an entire video. What about you guys?"

"Yeah, sure. I've got even more footage of ya guys being intimate but whatever."

"Shut up," Evan growled.

"Well," Craig yawned, "I'll better get down to some sleep before I wake up and edit this mess."

"Hold on," Evan called out. "Craig, could you hang on for a little bit?"

"Sure thing, but make it quick. I feel like I haven't seen sleep in forever." Craig moaned as the rest slowly slipped in their exhausted farewells and left the call, leaving Evan, Craig and Jonathan in it.

"Well, here's the thing – remember I said something about spending next weekend at a resort house and stuff like that?"

"Yep."

"Well, do you want to meet Delirious?"

"Why not? Is he coming?"

"Well… I'm here with Luke in L.A. and we're both coming." Jonathan nodded to himself.

"What?! God _damn_ , this is big, you haven't shown your face to _anyone_ in _forever_. Jesus, I'm going to have to take a good long look at you when the time comes."

"One more thing, uh – I didn't say this earlier to you either, Jonathan, but the one that I booked only has two rooms, so uh," Evan began again sheepishly. "Luke and you will have to share –"

"Uh-uh. Not happening. Luke specifically said he doesn't want to be anywhere in a room near me."

"Damn. Craig?"

"If Luke's not doing that then I'm not doing that either, man. It was easier with Marcel since I know him, but Luke knows something about him and _refuses_ to room with him."

"Then Luke can share with Mini, and I'll camp out elsewhere in the house." Jonathan offered.

"Sounds about right." Craig murmured, half asleep. "Then you and Evan can bunk up in the other one and catch up on life."

"Go to bed, Craig." Evan piped up again. "I'm ending the call right here, so all of you – go to bed!"

Jonathan listened as the Skype call dropped, and he slid the headset off his head. Sighing, he ensured that the footage was saved, and shut the laptop down, before proceeding to curl up on the couch with a thin blanket around his body. He stared at the ceiling and at the fan whizzing hypnotically up above his head, thinking about Luke's continued warnings. The alarms in his head have all been so quietly going off the whole time, and he was almost getting accustomed to the discomfort of it all. It was getting almost _too easy_ to act normally most of the time around Evan, despite the continued staring. A wave of tenderness gently washed over him, as he realized – that he might be falling into something he wasn't yet ready for. _I'm going to be in trouble at this rate_.

His phone buzzed and blinked in the darkness. Jonathan frowned, and stumbled over to the coffee table, snatching the device up in his hands. _Evan_. Evan was calling him.

Jonathan proceeded back to the couch and curled back up, propping his head up with a small pillow and accepted the call. Evan's voice came drifting through the other end of the line, calm, soothing and smooth as it always was when he wasn't playing.

"Did I wake you?"

"Nah, I wasn't even asleep yet. Weren't you going to go to sleep?" Jonathan asked, his heart beating slowly and softly underneath the blanket.

"I was going to. I couldn't. I keep thinking about things."

"Go on."

"Look, I know you're not exactly comfortable talking about it, but…" Evan sighed. "Please tell me you're not involved in a gang or anything. That day, those marks… I've seen those before, on a buddy of mine. He got into a gang and everything, and he got one of those marks because he pissed off the big guys in the gang. I don't even know how he's doing now, but I've seen those before, and I'm telling you it's not good –"

"Damn it, Evan. I'm not in a gang, okay? And you saw nothing that day. Even if you did, it doesn't matter to you, so let's just leave it at that."

He heard Evan sigh again, this time tinged with relief. "That's slightly better, I suppose. I was worried – because gangs never really do let you go. Once you're in, you're in until you die, that sort of thing. It's good that you're not in one."

Jonathan felt the heat in his cheeks rising. _He was worried, dead worried_.

"Look, I – I'm not in one, and I've never been in one. So don't worry about me, and worry a little more about yourself."

"What for?" The curiosity in Evan's voice seeped through.

"Geez, even Mini saw it. Luke didn't refuse to room with me for no reason, you know."

"Oh. _Oh_. Do you like – uh – pull a knife on people when they sleep?"

"No, I don't."

"Then what shitty sleeping habits do you have that makes Luke so wary of you?" Evan teased.

Jonathan paused for a moment, recalling the events of the day of the flight.

"Apparently, I talk in my sleep. Or rather, make noises in my sleep. _A lot_."

"That doesn't sound particularly bad. Heck, it probably doesn't even matter. I'm a pretty heavy sleeper. _I think_. I barely wake up when I do fall asleep."

"It'll start mattering once I get too loud and wake you. Luke smacked me on the way here because of that." Jonathan grimaced.

"Wow. Then I'll probably smother you and then apologize to Luke for the dead body." Evan joked. "Or maybe I don't even have to apologize, he'll be glad to have you around for a bit."

"Fuck you!" Jonathan's voice came out in a growl, however, he himself was amused.

A gentle silence followed, and Evan's voice began again.

"Man, I'm actually quite interested to see you swim again. From what I saw the other day, you're a relatively good swimmer."

"It's my pride. I'm H2O, remember?"

"Hah. I can't promise that I can match up to you, though." Evan murmured.

"Why not? You're a star athlete. Besides, if you've done fine on ice, you'll do fine in water. I should be the one that can't match up to you."

A soft hum. "I hope so. Ice and water are so different, though… which reminds me that I should probably bring you skating someday."

Jonathan listened as Evan stifled a soft, fatigued yawn that he had tried so hard to suppress. "Go to bed, Evan," he mumbled, and he bade his farewell as Evan bade his.

Jonathan gently placed his phone on the small table by his head and continued to stare at the ceiling, watching the fan whirl hypnotically above his head. He was unaware of how much time had passed or how long it had been since he hung up on the phone, but slowly, his eyes began to droop with each spin of the fan blades.

Liselle looked straight at him, her green eyes shimmering with hope. Her auburn hair shined in the light, and she smiled. " _It's goodbye, then_."

Jonathan peered at her, a warmth sweeping over his entire body. " _Goodbye, Liselle_. _Seeya._ "

Her smile widened, and she gazed tenderly at him, an image reminiscent of a proud mother gazing at her son. Slowly, she shuffled into the distance, and she was consumed by a bright light that ate away at every inch of Jonathan's skin. He shielded his eyes with his arms from the intense light until a shadow was cast upon him once more.

Evan stood, his thick arms by his sides, looking almost perfectly relaxed. " _Jonathan_ ," he whispered, and walked towards him lazily.

" _Evan_ … _I – Please don't get close,_ " Jonathan murmured, his throat dry.

" _Why not? We're best friends_." Evan took another step forward.

" _We are…but if you come any closer, I'll fall_."

He became suddenly aware that he was right on the edge of a cliff, with rocks crumbling beneath his feat, the thin edge threatening to give way at any moment, sending him to a gruesome and bloody death.

Evan halted in his tracks and gazed at him with forlorn eyes. " _Don't fall. Please. I won't come closer… but aren't we friends? Why can't I come closer if we are?_ "

" _It's too much…It's overflowing, spilling over the edge_ ," Jonathan whispered. His words were senseless, and he was in a state of delirium.

Evan gently held a hand out, an invitation. " _Come to me, Jonathan. I'll wait._ "

* * *

 _Gosh, I'm so sorry for this chapter. I hope you guys enjoyed, anyway! I've started on Chapter 6 already, I was brimming with ideas and I can say it's going to be rather cute. :)_


	6. Chapter 6 - Necessity

"Evan." Sarah called out, gently nudging him as he smiled tenderly once again in his sleep.

"Sweetie. Wake up for a bit."

It took all his might to lift his heavy eyelids and open his eyes to the scene of a bright Monday morning. He frowned, squinting his eyes at the sudden intake of light.

"What is it?" He murmured, his voice still hoarse and teeming with sleepiness.

"I'm working late tonight, so you've got to have dinner alone again," Sarah began sadly. "I'm sorry, sweetie."

"S'okay," Evan mumbled. "Pre-Christmas season crowd."

"I promise I'll make it up to you once all the madness ends, okay?" She smiled, her grey eyes glinting in the light.

"Okay," Evan drawled, and shut his eyes once more. He heard Sarah giggle softly, prompting Evan to look at her incredulously.

"Sorry. You looked like you were enjoying yourself, it's kind of adorable."

"Huh?"

"You were smiling to yourself in your sleep. Looked like you were having some really sweet dreams."

"Maybe," Evan purred. "Weren't you going to work or something?"

"I am. Go back to sleep, darling." Sarah leaned over, filling his nose with the smell of her perfume – a strong, overly sweet, fruity scent. He felt her lips on his forehead, gently pecking away. Slowly, the smell became less and less potent as he heard footsteps walking away from him, and a door shut far away from him.

He closed his eyes once more, basking in the stillness of the room. At some point he must have drifted off, as the darkness that he saw in his head soon dissipated and shapes began to form. Colors began to fill his mind, the color of the sky, the color of water… the sky blue shirt on a pale, skinny man.

His back was turned, and all Evan saw was the dark hair, a tattooed neck and the blue of his shirt through blurry eyes. Nothing was clear, nothing seemed solid, and everything seemed to be part of a bigger whirl.

There was a movement, and the man turned around, his face still a blur. His features were distorted, fuzzy, as though he was submerged in a body of constantly moving water, with Evan peering at him from above. A mound of soft pink skin moved; he was speaking – but Evan could barely hear him. It was as though he was attempting to communicate from a faraway radio that was losing signal, and all Evan could hear was soft buzzing, white noise, and bizarre, incomprehensible murmurs.

Involuntarily, Evan reached a hand out towards the watery, blurry man. He seemed so far away, so unreachable, almost fluid. The further he reached, the more lost he felt.

In one fell motion, his body soared, and was suddenly engulfed by a suspension of warmth. A soft, non-existent pair of hands caressed his face, and a pair of bright, almost electric blue eyes peered straight at him in the distance, almost incongruent with the rest of the scene, clearer than anything else in the blurry picture.

A wave of tenderness washed over him as he felt the hands move down towards his lips, tracing them slowly as though in admiration. The eyes drew closer, and closed themselves, and he felt his body shiver as heat drew through his mouth, sending pleasure throbbing through his entire body. He was experiencing happiness, in its purest forms.

The fuzziness slowly took over, and the images slowly faded away, distant, into black.

Evan awoke, his breathing slow and calm. The joy that he felt lingered, nesting itself in his chest, producing a pleasant warmth. Gently, he peeled the comforter off his body and headed into the bathroom, undressing along the way.

As the water fell from the shower head above, he relaxed his body. He began to lather himself up with soap, allowing the soft soapy scent to penetrate his senses. For the first time in a long time, he felt raw, completely bare.

His thoughts drifted to the coming weekend at the resort house. He had little objection to sharing a room with Jonathan, but a nagging feeling kept at his chest. He shook his head slightly, and ducked under the stream of water, allowing his emotions to wash away with the cool droplets that came and left his body.

He twisted a knob, and the water ceased to flow. He quickly stepped out of the shower, and continued along with the rest of his morning routine – brushing, washing, and shaving – all in a mechanical fashion.

His phone buzzed once – another compliment on Twitter regarding his latest video, which set his mind thinking about his next task. _I have to edit Dead Realm_ , he thought. _How do I even edit that one_?

Mere moments later, he was speeding through his recording of the past week's recording of Dead Realm, picking out moments which he felt suitable for the video as well as the moments that he had laughed at so heartily before.

" _Damn it, Vanoss, your hole is way too tight!_ " He heard Jonathan's voice come through the speakers. He smiled slightly, endlessly amused by how Jonathan could always twist his words into hilarious statements without realizing it. It was like a sort of magic – he was always a source of joy and laughter for Evan, and he could always enact a response out of him.

" _That is by far the weirdest thing I have ever heard you say to Evan_!" Tyler laughed, on the verge of wheezing. _Yes, Tyler_ , Evan thought to himself, _although I think I've heard worse from him_.

He proceeded to fast-forward a little further into the clip.

" _God damn it, Delirious, it's all your fault_!"

" _How's it my fault, you picked the tightest spot on the whole map_!"

" _You spent so much time trying to squeeze yourself into a tiny-ass hole_!"

He listened, recalling every bit the exchange as well as the laughter that followed that night. Satisfied, he made a cut, and set the clip aside as it joined others on a project board.

Once he had enough clips for a video, he began to merge them together, adding text, text effects, text animations, sound effects and music, continuously pushing himself through the tedium of it all. As he came to the portion of his clip with Jonathan, he paused for a second, thinking of how he would edit it. Smirking, he began to search up images, determined to create a pictorial depiction of Jonathan squeezing in to a tiny bum. The masterpiece soon fell into place.

A stillness soon settled as the rendering reached its completion. He checked the time only to find that it was now half past four – editing had taken much shorter than he had expected this time. Nonchalantly, he played around with his phone, wondering what to do next. The next thing he knew, he was typing a text to Jonathan, and pressed the 'Send' button before he was even aware of what he was doing.

"Are you alive?" He wrote.

A reply soon shot back into his inbox. "Yeah, I am. What's up?"

His heart leapt, and he dialed Jonathan's number into his phone, hoping silently to hear his friend's voice again.

"Evan?" Jonathan croaked softly.

"Hey. What'cha doing?

"Running through my Let's Play footage and cutting stuff out. I think I have enough for two episodes straight."

"Sounds good. You _do_ have enough videos to tide you through the weekend, don't you?"

"I always do. I only ever upload what you guys upload once in a while, anyway." Jonathan murmured a little sadly, and abruptly burst into a coughing fit.

"Are you okay?" Evan asked, concerned.

"Kind of. I think. I think I'm starting to lose my voice again." Jonathan breathed, his voice barely there.

"You sound like you've already lost it. How on earth do you manage to get sick so often these days?"

"I don't know. Been screaming a lot during my playthroughs, I suppose." He coughed slightly again.

Evan frowned. "Is Luke there grumbling to himself whilst he skins you alive for falling sick on him?"

"Luke's out on his own today," Jonathan muttered. "We were supposed to explore L.A. together today, but I'm in this state, so he's spending the whole day out on his own – and probably won't be back till late at night."

Jonathan paused, and began again, in an attempt to sound playful – "Do I sound sexy?"

"You sound like crap, man. Did you at least have something to eat?"

"I cooked off the remaining groceries we had from last week."

"Which would be?"

Jonathan paused again, causing Evan to probe further – "What did you have?"

His voice came through, coarse and hesitant, with a small tinge of guilt. "Spaghetti bolognese."

"You _do_ know that that's going to kill your throat more, do you?" Evan chided gently, attempting to keep his annoyance at Jonathan unexpressed.

"It was the only thing I could make from what was left. Besides, it makes me feel nice."

Jonathan sounded so pitiful – _so pitiful that I could die_ , Evan thought to himself. He gently shook his head, and proceeded –

"I'll let you save your voice. Have a good rest, okay?"

"Sure thing, _Dad_." Jonathan teased, and hung up.

 _He called me Dad_. The thought bugged him, like a little parasite on the back of his mind, crawling about and tickling him. _He called me Dad_.

Evan wandered mindlessly through the house, bored out of his mind once again, when an idea struck him – one that excited him beyond belief. He would do what he had considered doing with the guys in a post-game Skype call. He would show up at his friend's door, and surprise him with a visit.

The idea was appealing – _I don't have to have dinner alone, and I can watch over that idiot_ , _too._ Evan smiled to himself, and left the house as well as the emptiness behind him, as he stepped out into the warm California sunlight as the sun was on the verge of setting, feeling the orange rays of the sun hit his body.

* * *

 _My head hurts_ , Jonathan thought, as the second video finally rendered. He crawled back towards the couch, his head heavy and pulsing, and gently lay his head against the couch, with his body half-sprawled on the ground. His head felt like an entire planet on its own, barely propped up by a few thin threads. He groaned softly as his head throbbed painfully.

The sun peeked through the blinds, tinting the room in shades of orange and casting lines of shadows throughout the room. Everything was still, agonizingly still.

There was a knock upon the door as the sun began to vanish from the horizon. Jonathan scrambled slowly to his feet, using the couch as a crutch to fully stand upright. He shuffled slowly, tracing his hands along the walls cautiously, a part of his mind wondering if Luke had forgotten his keys.

Another knock. "I'm coming," he called out hoarsely, and bumbled across the hallway to the door. It a moment before he finally arrived, his breathing labored and his head heavier than ever. He struggled to unlock the door with clammy, trembling hands, unable to focus on his task. The door soon swung open, revealing a bewildering sight.

"Evan?" He whispered. "What are you doing here?"

"Taking care of you, you idiot. You haven't had dinner yet, have you?"

"I'm starving. Kind of."

"So are you going to let me in, or am I going to force my way in?" Evan asked, before pushing gently past him. "Too late, coming in already."

Jonathan shut the door behind them both. "I'm fine, really. I was going to go down and get some food for myself –"

"You weren't," Evan interrupted, and unloaded a few shopping bags on a counter. "You were going to lie down and pretend that everything is fine and ignore Luke when he probes later. And then you're going to try to sleep it off and realize that it's never going away, and then you're just going to give up and take some aspirin for it, before you give up for real and break down and tell Luke about it. Honestly, dude, you look like shit."

Jonathan drew back, slightly surprised at the accuracy of his description.

"Really," Evan continued, "Just let me do something for you, okay?"

"Such as?"

"Make dinner for you. I haven't got anyone to have dinner with tonight, anyway, so why not?"

"I can make dinner fine on my own." Jonathan bit back, annoyed at the growing pounding in his head.

"I'm not doubting that you can. I'm not even going to doubt that you're a good cook. But I'll take the chance and doubt that you know what's good for you, what's right for you when you're sick."

"And you do! I'm sorry, but I'm not particularly interested in a health food lecture right now, nor am I interested in any discussion about the benefit of oats and juicing or anything like that, Evan."

The venom seeped into his voice almost too easily. His mind felt as though it was on the edge of bursting, throbbing so painfully and so roughly that he might have simply collapsed onto the ground right there and then. Evan picked up on Jonathan's tone, and looked up at him, his expression eerily blank.

"If that's what you think about me, then _fine_ ," Evan growled, the temperature of his blood and his voice both rising. "But if you don't want to help yourself now, and you want to remain sick through the weekend, then _I'm sorry, dude, I'm not letting that happen_ , you understand?"

Jonathan gazed at him weakly, and simply gave up. He shuffled slowly back towards the couch and curled up, pulling his blanket around him and over his head. He listened as pots and pans clinked about, with plastic containers being opened and packages being ripped apart, and listened as the tap ran and the stove was turned on.

The blanket was soon lifted and pushed away from his head, as Evan peered down on him from above, a tenderness replacing the blank anger he had on his face before. He watched as Evan sank to a knee beside him, and Jonathan opened his mouth, ready to speak.

"Shush," Evan whispered, his voice now gentle. He lay a hand on Jonathan's forehead, where it was hot against Evan's cool skin. Jonathan closed his eyes, and relished the feeling of the contact. Evan's hand against his forehead felt like a potent painkiller – the throbbing in his head that had once been so painful had now subsided greatly.

"You've developed a fever, Jonathan. Am I allowed to take care of you now?"

Jonathan hummed softly, and nodded slowly. He felt Evan's presence leave his side, and he sighed softly. Evan already seemed like better company than Luke. A memory bubbled slowly to the surface in his still-fuzzy mind –

" _Luke,_ " Jonathan croaked. " _My throat hurts to hell_."

" _Shut up and it'll stop hurtin'_."

" _Can't you be a little nicer? No wonder my sister –_ "

" _God damn it, Jonathan! I'm sorry, okay?"_ He placed a cup next to Jonathan. " _Drink up, it helps with the throat._ "

His recollection was sharply interrupted by a clinking of glasses nearby his head. He opened his eyes, and Evan peered at him, his deep brown eyes assuring. "I've made some honey lemon. Sit up," he breathed, and gently helped Jonathan up into a sitting position. As soon as Jonathan was up with his back against the seat of the couch, Evan had the cup in front of him, with the rim of the cup against his lips. He drank, and winced when the sour concoction hit his throat, and he was sent into a choking fit.

"Slowly, slowly," Evan gently coaxed, and dabbed at his lips with a tissue. "It stings, but you've got to get it down, okay?"

Jonathan coughed. "It's really sour."

"There's quite a bit of lemon in there, it's bound to be sour. Drink," Evan encouraged. "The soup is going to be ready any moment now."

A savory scent was filling the air and wafting through Jonathan's nose. "Smells good."

"Of course it does. It's going to taste as good and it's going to be good for you, too."

He felt as Evan left his side again, and as he heard Evan shuffle about behind him in the kitchen, he attempted to stand and walk towards where Evan was. His head was still heavy, and it felt as though his limbs were simultaneously on fire and freezing at the same time.

As he saw Evan's form move about in the distance, he shuffled, trembling, closer towards the man, attempting to reach him where he stood and as Evan turned towards him, he was overcome by a momentary faintness –

"Jonathan!" Evan yelled, and hurried to his side as Jonathan spun on the spot, about to fall to the ground.

His mind was in a whirl and he felt weak all over, as though he had completely lost control of his body in the moment. He felt Evan's hands on his waist as he collapsed into Evan's chest, feeling his hard muscles through his shirt. All he could think about in the moment was Evan; how Evan held him, how Evan smelled…

"What're you doing, dude?" Evan murmured softly. "You're not supposed to even move."

Jonathan took a deep breath, filling his system with Evan's intoxicating scent. "I forgot to apologize."

"What for? You haven't done anything wrong."

"For being an asshole to you earlier."

"You're sick," Evan coaxed. "I don't expect you to be in a better mood than anybody right now. Come on, let's get you back to the couch."

Evan's strength guided Jonathan's reluctant limbs to move, through the doorway and back towards the couch. Once Jonathan was safely back on the couch, he could swear he heard a soft, amused chuckle rise from the depths of Evan's chest.

"What?"

"Hmm. Nothing much. Just wondered if I could fully carry you." Evan smirked, and changed the subject. "You know, I wasn't actually expecting this. After we hung up and all, I thought it would be a brilliant idea to just have a surprise dinner with you. And then you opened up and you looked like a zombie. Scared whatever excitement I came with out of me."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's funny, though. We've all been thinking of sneaking to North Carolina and surprising you, but we've always shoved it aside knowing you wouldn't be happy about it. And then you come flying over to the doorstep of the state I live in."

"I would've killed you guys if you did."

"You would have. It's what stopped us. Believe me, all of us wished to know more about you."

Jonathan drew out a sigh. "And I wish I could've given more. I sometimes dream that you guys would show up, or try to track me down. And I get scared."

"But, hey," Evan replied, standing once more and moving towards the kitchen. "I think I've done what I've always wanted to do. I've shown up at your door. I've gotten to see how you look like, and I've gotten to know you a little better. To be frank, I daren't ask for more."

He watched as Evan ducked back into the kitchen, and heard the stove being turned off. The smell coming from the kitchen was mouthwatering, and Jonathan's stomach began to growl, reminding him of how hungry he was. He was almost too eager to have a meal, and almost jumped up from his seat when Evan began to emerge from the kitchen with two steaming bowls of soup.

"I'm starving," Jonathan whined as Evan lay the two bowls on the coffee table in front of them.

"Be patient. It's way too hot and you'll be complaining about that in a moment if you have it now."

"But I'm starving."

Evan shot him an incredulous look, and Jonathan watched as something in the man snapped, and he picked up a bowl gingerly and sat by Jonathan's side, rolling his eyes. Slowly, he ladled a decent amount of soup onto the spoon and lifted it to his lips, gently blowing on it to cool it down. Jonathan watched, his chest pounding as Evan gently cooled the spoonful of soup, and as Evan raised the spoon towards his own lips, his heart nearly leapt out of his chest. He stared at Evan, eyes wide.

"Weren't you starving? Open up." Evan grumbled, annoyed.

Slowly, he separated his lips, and Evan slipped the spoon closer to his lips, tipping it gently and emptying its contents into his mouth. The soup, now warm, was gentle against his throat as he swallowed.

"Tastes good," Jonathan whispered, and Evan smiled triumphantly at him.

"Told you so."

Evan began to ladle another spoonful of soup, and Jonathan groaned, carefully keeping the distress out of his voice –

"You don't have to feed me."

Evan chuckled softly, and handed Jonathan the bowl which he took hesitantly. "You're right, I don't. It was kind of nice to do that, though. I never really got to take care of someone like that before."

Evan picked up his own portion and began to eat from it heartily. Jonathan frowned as he watched.

"Why didn't you make something else for yourself? Like, something you want to eat."

"Why should I? I'm not one to let you suffer alone."

"Pretty big coming from a person that takes joy in making fun of me all day."

"Shut up, I'm being nice. Enjoy it while it lasts." Evan snapped playfully. He looked around for a moment, and added, "Why don't you sleep on a bed, anyway?"

"Luke took it, remember? There's only one in the apartment. Funny enough, he said I should be the one on the bed when we first arrived. And then it became his."

"Bet you'll look forward to the weekend then. You'll get to see a bed for the first time in forever."

"Speaking of that," Jonathan shot him a look. "Are you really okay rooming with me? I'm pretty sure I'm an even larger step down from Sarah than Luke or Craig."

Evan looked at him, his deep brown eyes dark and mysterious, with a look in his eye that Jonathan could not discern. "Don't say that. You're not a step down from anyone. If you really believed that, then you wouldn't have messaged me all those years ago asking if I wanted to play."

Jonathan felt his chest swell happily at Evan's words. It wasn't the reassurance that made gave him such joy, but it was the way Evan said it – _you're not a step down from anyone_.

"Besides, I've had plenty of experience with noisy sleepers, and I think I've mastered the art of sleeping like a log."

"Experiences…?"

Evan grimaced. "Hockey team camp. Put an entire team of hormonal teenagers into a huge bunk for weeks at end… Some of us weren't that discreet with our, uh, needs."

Jonathan choked a little on his soup, and nearly murdered his throat half-yelling. "They _jerked it_ \- !?"

"Sssh!" Evan shushed him, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. "I'll bet whatever noises you make in your sleep is better – _tenfold_ – than what I heard on those nights."

"That makes me feel a whole lot better. And kind of bad for you, but a whole lot better."

A silence emerged as the two began to polish off the rest of the soup, Jonathan almost cheerfully and Evan rather distractedly.

"Evan?" Jonathan said softly, causing the man to look up at him, before downing the last of his soup down in one gulp. As he wiped at his lips, he answered, "What?"

"You were distracted and playing with your food."

"Oh."

Jonathan narrowed his eyes, and took a shot in the dark - "Thinking about the good old days when you would listen to guys jerk off?"

Jonathan's words caused a reaction that he thought he would never see in his whole life. Evan flushed, his face draining of color, before his cheeks turned a fiery shade of red. He began to stammer, utterly flustered.

"I didn't - I - why would I?"

Jonathan giggled softly. "Ease up, dude. Just messing with you."

"Fuck you."

Evan stood up, and took both bowls into the kitchen. After a short period of running taps and the clinking of bowls, he returned, a glass of water and a packet of pills in his hands, the latter of which he chucked into Jonathan's lap.

"Painkillers. These bring down temperatures as well, so it should work fine."

Jonathan slid a pill out from the packet. "These look dangerous."

"They're just regular painkillers I carry around. Always ready. Now take it or I'm sending you to a doctor."

"Geez, ease up, Dad." Jonathan retorted, and shoved the pill in his mouth. An ever-familiar bitter taste began to spread in his mouth, and he quickly gulped down a mouthful of water, rinsing away the peculiar taste of the medicine. He swallowed, making a face, and settled the cup back down onto the table.

"You're going to feel a little drowsy in around 15 minutes, depending on how well your body works through it." Evan instructed, as he sat down on one end of the couch, and began making himself comfortable. Pulling a pillow from behind his back, he placed the pillow on his lap, and let out a comfortable sigh.

Jonathan sighed as well, and lay another pillow right beside Evan's body, extracting a curious glance from Evan. Sticking his tongue out playfully, he stretched his body out and settled his head atop the pillow and pulled the blanket over his body, allowing his feet to dangle lazily over the opposite edge of the couch.

"Are you going to bed already?" Evan asked, bemused. "Geez, I didn't think you were that lazy."

"You said I'd be drowsy soon, anyway. It's getting late and I intend to sleep. Unlike you, Night Owl."

"Hey, I sleep right _most of the time_. I just haven't been right what with the editing and recording recently."

"Hmm." Jonathan hummed softly in amusement. He soon felt fingers near his scalp, gently and affectionately stroking his hair.

"That's... actually kind of nice," Jonathan commented after a protracted silence between them.

Evan chuckles. "How is your hair so soft, anyway?"

"Family secret." Jonathan ribbed.

"Oh? And here I was, thinking you were descended from a family of ugly, deformed serial killers."

"It's why you shouldn't piss my Daddy off then, or else he'll come at you with his machete," Jonathan laughed.

"Me? You were calling me Dad earlier, weren't you? Am I Jason now?"

"My Daddy doesn't have a face, you know. At least not one like that." Jonathan pouted.

"What's wrong with my face?"

"Too good." Jonathan stuck his tongue out at him.

Evan faked an annoyed harrumph. "Go to sleep, you annoying little punk."

Jonathan thought quietly for a moment, and slowly closed his eyes, preparing to succumb to the effects of both the medication and his illness.

"Evan," he called out softly after a while, his sleepiness evident.

"Hmm?"

Jonathan paused, and turned his body on the spot away from Evan, partially obscuring his face from Evan's view. "You smell good."

Evan watched, dazed, as the man near his lap began to slow in his breathing, and as a snore began to form on his pale lips, he gently reached a hand towards his cheek and hesitated.

"You, too." Evan whispered, and gave in to a mild, yet overwhelming desire boiling away in his heart.

* * *

Luke unlocked the door to the rental apartment, his arrival greeted by an eerie darkness and silence. _He's probably sleeping_ , he mused, and proceeded into the living area quietly, determined not to make too much noise. Beyond the hallway, however, he was greeted by a peculiar sight.

A man with dark, spiky hair lay slumped at one end of the couch. At the other end, a pair of pale bare feet dangled loosely from underneath a blanket off the edge of the couch. Curious, he crept up closer and peeked over the edge of the couch.

Jonathan lay on the couch, with his head propped up by a pillow and his body covered loosely by a blanket, the proud owner of the beautiful pair of feet. The odd scene was completed, however, by the other man on the couch.

Evan was soundly asleep, his lap gently kissing the top of Jonathan's head. He snored softly and peacefully, at a perfect ease. It was only upon further examination of the two individuals did Luke realize where the crux of it all lay.

Evan's right arm was in a resting position right next to Jonathan's face, his fingers gently brushing against the pale cheeks of their best friend, almost as though Evan had fallen asleep caressing his face. The set-up of the scene before him was so tender and so sweet that Luke caught himself smiling to himself, and he had to shake himself to his senses and take a moment to re-establish rational thought.

 _These idiots better not hurt each other_ , he thought grimly, the prospect of having the pair before him torn apart greatly troubling him.

* * *

 _Oh, goodness. I've got a lot of things planned out for the next chapter, so please bear with me! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!_


	7. Chapter 7 - Turmoil

Craig chucked a steak into the shopping cart. "So," he began. "How does Delirious look like?"

Evan sighed and lay a carton of eggs into the cart, biting his lip gently. A part of him was determined to not answer the question, yet a part of him wanted to be honest. He wrestled with the choices for a minute, and decided on the vaguest description he could find.

"Jonathan just looks like a person."

A package of sausages slipped itself into the cart as Craig came back towards Evan with a dubious look on his face.

"Jonathan, eh? I didn't remember you two being on a first name basis."

"It's a rather recent development," Evan admitted.

"And what does he call you? Evan? Or does he stick to _Vanoss_ like he always does until he slips up?"

"What are you trying to get at?

"He's the only person that insists on addressing you as 'Vanoss', isn't he? All of us call you by your first name except him. He's pretty dead set on calling us all by our nicknames – until we make him slip up, that is – so is he or is he not calling you Evan now?"

Evan placed a pack of sausages into the cart thoughtfully. It would be a question he would ask Jonathan later – _why was he so insistent on the usage of everyone's nicknames, including his own, despite the fact that everyone knew the names of everyone in the group_?

"So?" Craig probed once more. " _Evan_ or _Vanoss_?"

"He calls me Evan, okay?" Evan snapped.

"And you haven't answered my first question, either. How does he look like?"

"Like I said, he looks like a person."

"I'll be clearer – is he gorgeous?" Craig asked, his eyes staring straight into Evan's seriously, as though they were searching for something in his eyes. Evan stared back, unintimidated.

"Maybe he is."

He felt Craig's eyes remain firmly on his back as he proceeded to throw in a few more cuts of meat into the shopping cart. As Evan returned towards Craig, he almost exploded.

"Evan! You're bewitched!" Craig half-yelled, causing a few fellow shoppers to stare in their direction before returning to their own businesses.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Evan retorted in a hushed voice.

"The guys are right! You've got a – a _thing_ for Delirious or something like that!"

"No, I don't!"

"You sure do. You said that he _might_ be gorgeous but you sure as hell didn't look like you thought he wasn't."

"Where the _hell_ did that come from? He's just a cool guy, a good friend that I recently got to know even better. You're making it sound like he came all the way here to cast some weird spell on me or something like that."

Craig turned and walked away for a moment, before he returned with a small bag of potatoes. He spoke once more, the agitation in his voice gone.

"You know, in all of the time that I've known you, this is the _first time_ you've ever spoken of _anyone_ like that."

"What –"

"No, listen," Craig interjected. "I've never heard you speak of anyone like that, or even become overly defensive over someone in your life. Even when you talk about Sarah... it's not the same."

" _I'm_ defensive?" Evan asked incredulously.

"You sound like a kid who's afraid to have his toy taken away from him. Or a father afraid that his daughter would see all the wrong guys. Just… really protective and defensive. I've never seen you like that before. Not even with Sarah."

Evan gaped at Craig for a moment, and turned in silence, walking to another section of the supermarket quickly. He heard Craig hurry behind him for a short while, before his footsteps faded into nothingness.

"Craig?" He called out, spinning around as he looked for him. "Craig?"

He was nowhere to be seen. Annoyed, Evan began to fill the rest of the shopping cart on his own with groceries for the weekend. It was only after he had checked out at the counter and paid for all the groceries did he see Craig, standing at the entrance and smiling at him deviously.

"You just wanted to avoid paying for these, didn't you?"

Craig laughed, and extended a hand. "If it makes you feel better about your worthy sacrifice, I'll help you carry some of these."

"You prick." Evan bit at him, and then laughed.

"Consider it a worthy sacrifice to shut me up."

"Thank God for that, then."

"It doesn't mean, however, that the guys will shut up about it, or that I will stop _thinking_ about it."

Evan rolled his eyes and headed towards the car. _Thank god for the holiday_.

* * *

Two figures walked in the distance, their shoulders almost touching, their lips moving rapidly but silently, as though they were deep in a somber discussion. As the sun set behind them,

"Load the rest of the stuff we're not going to use into the fridge, can you?" Evan called out to Craig distractedly, his eyes focused on the approaching silhouettes through the glass sliding doors of the house. He slid a door open and went out towards them with his eyes fixated only on one of the men. As he drew closer, the pair of ocean blue eyes became clearer and clearer.

"Evan!" Luke called out as Evan stopped in front of the duo. "Is Craig in there too?"

Evan nodded, and looked at Jonathan whilst Luke raced ahead into the house. He was silent, but his blue eyes spoke a world of words and expressed an overwhelming anxiousness.

"It's okay," Evan softly murmured. "It'll be fine, okay? Craig knows better than to do anything stupid about you or your identity. He also knows when and where to keep a low profile. It'll be fine."

Evan gently grabbed his shoulders and squeezed them assuredly. He watched as Jonathan's head snapped up, looking towards his, and slowly, the worry in his eyes dissipated, with warmth replacing it. Evan smiled, and led him towards the house. He felt as Jonathan's shoulders tensed up again, and he whispered softly –

"Slow, deep breaths, okay? He's not going to eat you up."

Craig stood by the sliding doors with Luke, his eyes widening as Evan approached with Jonathan by his side. His eyes darted up and down the man's body, examining every detail he could focus on all at once.

"Uh, Craig?" Evan began. "This is Jonathan, or rather… someone you know as Delirious."

"Hi, Mini." Jonathan said in a small voice.

"Holy shit." Craig blurted out. "Are you sure you didn't just bag some guy from Santa Monica Beach and bring him here?"

"Yeah, we totally did. We made sure we got the most unconvincing guy so you'll think it's him." Luke drawled, the sarcasm playing on his voice.

Evan watched Jonathan shift his gaze uncomfortably. _I need to make him feel like they're not strangers_ , he thought, and glanced at Luke desperately for help.

Luke was quick on the intake. "Hey Johnathan, didn't you have something you wanted to tell Craig in person before? From way back?"

"Oh, uh…" Jonathan paused. "Hey, Mini… _I want foooood_."

In mere split seconds, Craig dove ahead and hugged Jonathan tight. "Good God, that's the last thing I wanted to hear, but… nice to finally meet you… Jonathan."

Craig quickly released Jonathan, frowning. "Why the fuck did you keep that pretty face from us, even?!"

"Because of idiots like you," Luke ribbed. "Can we get the grill started? We're actually fuckin' starving."

" _I'm hungry, I want foooood._ " Jonathan repeated, a smile playing on his lips now.

"DAMN IT, DELIRIOUS!" Craig yelled as he turned back towards the house.

 _It's all right now,_ Evan thought. Jonathan turned back abruptly towards Evan as he walked up the path, and hesitated for a moment, before he came running back to Evan's side.

"What? Are you freaked out again?"

"No," Jonathan beamed. "I forgot to thank you."

"What got you so scared all of a sudden, though? You were perfectly fine when you met me, even when it was _Nate_."

"I just – just started thinking on the way here… first it's you, now it's Mini, and soon it'll be everyone else, and very soon the whole world will come to know me, to the point I can't even breathe anymore. It sounds stupid, doesn't it?"

"Very. You're overthinking it. Unusual for someone like you who barely thinks."

"Fuck you. And you sound like Luke, so make that double." Jonathan bit back, grinning, and he turned away, running towards the house with a spring in every step, this time with Evan trailing behind him.

As they entered the house, Craig's voice instantly echoed loudly through the room, and they were met with a chaotic scene.

"I got the food – FUCK YOU, LUKE!"

Luke ran past in front of them and disappeared through another door, a heavy grocery bag filling his hands. Craig quickly chased after him, yelling, "You are _NOT_ having all the god damn meat to yourself!"

A soft giggle came from Evan's side. "Okay, where do I put my bag down while those idiots are at it?"

"Uh, right – the room."

Evan gestured for Jonathan to follow after him, and proceeded up a flight of stairs into a long hallway. On opposite walls were two doors, both ajar, with one farther down the hallway and the other closer to the entrance of the hallway.

"That one," Evan said, pointing towards the door closer to them as they walked past it, "is going to be Luke and Craig's room. Which will be useful because Craig's a terrible drunk. I know you've never actually seen it, but I think you've heard it first-hand before."

They walked further inwards towards the end of the hallway, and into a room, simply decorated with light furnishings. Facing the door was a window, with a set of thick red curtains adorning it. Two single beds lay side by side, with a small end table separating them. Another door lay within the room, slightly open, revealing a set of white ceramic tiles covering the floor.

"And this… is ours. The two of us will have to share the bathroom, so _please_ don't take forever in there when I need it. Oh, and the bed opposite the bathroom door is yours."

"Why did you get to choose your bed first?" Jonathan sulked.

"Because I came first."

"I bet you tell that to all your girls." Jonathan retorted, prompting Evan to roll his eyes at his back as he proceeded to throw his bag down on the ground next to his bed. As he straightened back up and turned towards Evan, he licked his lips quickly –

"Shall we go? I'm starving, and Luke is probably going to eat all the meat if we don't hurry."

"Does he always do that?" Evan muttered as they hurried down the stairs, their feet tapping quickly against the wooden steps.

"He stole all the pepperonis off my pizza once," Jonathan replied darkly. "I just walked away to get a drink and they were all gone."

As they turned towards the door that Luke previously disappeared out of, they were greeted by a beautiful view. The moon had begun to take the place of the sun, reflecting light into the pool that sat in the middle of the platform that the porch led out to. Adorning the pool were lounge chairs, white against the dark porcelain of the ground, as well as lights that illuminated the pool with a light blue glow.

The beauty was soon overtaken by chaos as Craig's voice rang out shrilly by them, chiding Luke once more.

"GOD DAMN IT LUKE, SAVE SOME SAUSAGES FOR THEM!"

"YOU SAVE YOUR SAUSAGE FOR THEM!" Luke roared back, humor in his face as he ran off towards the pool with a half-eaten sausage clasped between his teeth.

"He just ate the entire first pack of sausages. Just like that, it's gone. _Poof_." Craig huffed, gesturing angrily with his arms.

"Good, then we'll drink up his Coke." Jonathan determined, and reached for the sole bottle of cola and a small plastic cup. Evan stared incredulously at him, unsure of what he was doing, but an increasingly evil grin upon Jonathan's face spelt out all that he needed to know.

He watched as Jonathan poured out a generous amount of Coke into the cup, and carefully, he sashayed down the steps of the porch and onto the dark porcelain ground.

"Luke," he heard Jonathan call out, his voice sickeningly sweet. "Have some Coke."

"Aw, thanks, man."

" _Do_ ask if you want more. I'll just be there by the porch, okay?"

Jonathan turned, his smile growing as he ran back towards Evan and Craig. As he approached through the growing smoke of the grill, he whispered hurriedly to them both.

"Gimme the booze. Just top up the rest of the Coke bottle with it. And then he can't drink it anymore, even if he asked."

"Geez, Delirious, you're evil." Craig grinned, and began to pour the alcohol into the partially-filled bottle, filling it to the brim.

"That's… quite a bit of alcohol, though." Evan murmured as he watched the pair enact out their plan.

"We've bought more than enough to get us drunk."

"I'm not worried about that," Evan replied. "Can _you_ take that much alcohol?"

He watched as the man hesitated for a moment, uncertainty evident on his face.

"I'll deal with it somehow. At least I won't be as drunk as you two will be. You're both basically alcoholics, what with this much booze." Jonathan laughed nervously, and changed the subject. "Anyway, the steaks smell good. Can I have a piece?"

Evan sighed, and broke open a bottle of beer, feeling the odd combination of bitterness, cold and heat seep through his mouth and throat as he drank. It felt almost natural to drink when he was out at parties and in public bars, but in the presence of Jonathan on that quiet night, the drink felt foreign in his hand, almost like a weapon that he could not use.

A plate filled with steak slices, skewers and sausages appeared before his eyes. Evan looked up to see Jonathan smiling at him. "Take it."

"Why? I mean, you got it, so you eat it."

"I'm being nice. Take it. Treat it as thanks for earlier this week." He gently pushed the plate towards his face, and Evan accepted reluctantly. _Earlier this week_. He smiled to himself at the sheer memory, a tender feeling tingling at his fingertips.

* * *

"Jonathan, is there any more Coke left?"

"Noooope." Jonathan drawled, and giggled. "Oh, you mean what I'm drinking? Nah, that's Coke and boo-ooze."

Luke stared at Jonathan momentarily as Craig and Evan began to crack up uncontrollably, before he realized that he had been had. He flipped him the bird in annoyance and turned to storm off towards his spot by the pool, grumbling to himself.

"Aw, Luke is grumpy that someone finished up his Coke?" Craig called out, his mirth soon taking over.

"Fuck y'all!" Luke called back, prompting the three men to laugh even harder.

The night had shifted – the sky was darker than it could ever be, with the moon and the stars shining clearly in the cloudless sky. Around them, the lights seemed to grow stronger, creating a parade of shimmers on the surface of the pool. The flames of the grill had begun to die down, and the plates were cleared and cleaned. All that was left to do was to enjoy the rest of the first night of their holiday together.

Jonathan settled himself on the steps of the front porch, inhaling the cool night air slowly and exhaling calmly. He was beginning to truly relax and feel at home despite the fact that he was miles away from the comfort and warmth of his own home. He had barely thought of Liselle ever since the last dream he had of her, and even the mere thought of her did not bother him. _It might all just be over_.

He felt pressure on the steps and heard it creak as Evan sat down beside him, cracking open a new bottle of beer.

"You've barely made a dent in the drink," he commented coolly.

"And you? This is what, your tenth bottle?"

"Fourth. Surprisingly few as compared to how many I usually down by now. Craig's the on his seventh and I think he's starting to get wasted."

Behind them, Craig mumbled, slurring, "I can hear you guys… I'm not drunk, oka-ay."

"Sure thing," Evan replied dismissively and rolled his eyes, taking another mouthful of beer in his mouth.

Jonathan stared down at his bottle. "I've never actually really had booze before. I've only had booze mixed with something else, and never this much before."

"Hmm. And here I am, drinking ever since I came out of high school." Evan murmured. "We're so different sometimes, I wonder how we became friends."

"Yeah, how did that happen, anyway?"

"I don't know, some random guy named H2O Delirious messaged me one day saying I'm pretty damn cool and asked if I wanted to play. I was flattered and I accepted despite his videos being complete shit." Evan laughed. He raised his bottle slightly, and whispered, "Cheers to our friendship."

Jonathan smiled, and tipped the neck of his bottle towards Evan's. "Cheers."

A protracted silence followed as the two men took a long, large gulp of their drinks.

The night soon became a blur as Evan and Craig continued to empty bottle after bottle, eventually culminating in a playful little brawl in the living room of the house. Cushions were thrown around and used as weaponry to attack each other with, and yells resounded all about the house.

Jonathan himself was feeling rather tipsy as he finished off the last of his own drink. His limbs felt loose, as though he was a marionette lifted by strings. As he tried to maneuver his way around the cushions now strewn on the ground, he wobbled slightly with each step, as though he was walking on the cushions themselves. His head buzzed ever so gently, and he approached the two men half-collapsed on the now cushion-less couch.

"You two should just go to bed."

"Nnnn-nooo." Craig garbled, waving his arms about in confusion. "I don't-sch wanna go to bed."

"Luke!" Jonathan called out weakly. The man shot a dark glance into the house, and hollered, "What?!"

"Craig's wasted and needs the bed!"

Luke got out of his spot and trudged towards the house, grumbling obscenities under his breath. Upon entering the house, Jonathan grinned sheepishly at him as he took in the sight of the mess.

"Just get him in bed and get some rest yourself. We'll clean this all up tomorrow." Jonathan said, and Luke slung Craig's arm around his own shoulder.

"C'mon buddy. Time for bed."

"Noooo…I haven't – _hic_ \- beat Evan yet-sch."

The two slowly vanished up the stairs, and Jonathan listened as Craig protested feebly against Luke's exhausted coaxing. As the protesting died down, Evan groaned softly and smiled stupidly at Jonathan.

"You, too. Time for bed." Jonathan instructed, and shuffled about switching off all sources of light, before heading back to lift Evan from his seat.

"Y'know, I can probably carry you." Evan mumbled woozily as Jonathan stumbled slightly in an attempt to support Evan's large frame.

"I'm not doubting that. But you're wrecked, so let me help you. Come on. First step up the stairs, so watch your feet."

Evan murmured an incomprehensible reply, and Jonathan felt him lean against his body for support as he dragged his legs wearily up the steps. As they finally conquered the final step, Evan whispered softly –

"I haven't been this drunk since… since Halloween… I think."

"Yeah, you have some sobriety issues. Come on, a little bit more and you can lie down and sleep. Move your legs!"

"Hnnh… you're not getting it. I mean… Halloween… I wasn't happy drunk, you know? I feel so happy now."

"Sure thing. A few more steps," Jonathan assured. _A few more steps before I pass out and get crushed by him, that is_.

"Like… like I'm flying."

"I heard that's how everyone feels when they're drunk or high. So there's that."

"No… I mean… like… oomph!"

No less than a few moments after Jonathan could shut the door and hurriedly press the on switch on the air conditioning remote, his limbs gave way and whatever that remained of his strength left him, sending the two falling onto Evan's bed, with Jonathan's arm trapped underneath his heavy body and Evan's face half-buried in Jonathan's neck.

"You're weak," Evan whined softly.

"I'm tipsy, and you're heavy." Jonathan bit back.

He heard Evan giggle. "Hi Tipsy. I'm Evan." After a short pause, he continued. "First kiss."

Jonathan gazed down at him, confused. "What?"

"Be honest about it. When was your first kiss?"

He felt his heart take off. "Why?"

Evan gazed up at him, his eyes half-closed, pleading, and his cheeks gently red. "Because I feel like I haven't gotten to know you properly, even after so long. Please? First kiss."

Jonathan hesitated, and then answered brusquely, "Seventeen."

"Mine was fourteen," Evan murmured. "First weed?"

"Never tried smoking weed before. Despite all the weed jokes."

"Hmm. I was eighteen. First post-game celebration in college." He leaned closer towards Jonathan, his soft lips gently brushing against his ear, and whispered, "Lost your virginity."

Jonathan felt his heart take off in his chest. A part of him wanted to avoid the question entirely, yet the tipsy, fun-loving part of him egged him on. It was a long moment before he finally answered.

"Eighteen."

"Mmhm. Sounds like you had a good last two years of high school. I was fifteen."

"We've got an early bloomer here, huh?" Jonathan teased.

An uncomfortable laugh came from the depths of Evan's chest. "Yeah… But sometimes, just sometimes… it feels like… like I haven't lived for myself, like it's not me. All my life I've done things other people wanted me to do. It feels like I haven't ever lived the way I wanted. It was always for my parents, for the team, for this girl and then that girl…After a while it just became so easy, you know? To be this way. To be someone for everyone. To be that guy every girl wants to date, the guy that everyone wants to be. To be that guy that's cool with everything, that's up for anything."

"You're doing what you want now, aren't you? Playing games. Making friends, meeting people. Making videos, being cool."

Evan sighed sadly. "Enough about me. What about your sweet little two years in high school?"

The tiny part of his brain egged him on, and Jonathan spoke, staring at the white ceiling, his memories faintly passing before his eyes like pencil strokes on blank canvas. "Name is Nick. I was the weird kid nobody got in school, he was the cool kid on the football team. I didn't ever think he'd take a shine on me, but he did… and… things just happened."

Evan's silent breathing filled the air for a moment, and Jonathan chuckled nervously. "God, it's embarrassing, isn't it?"

"You dated a guy?" Evan murmured slowly into his neck. "I guess that doesn't matter…"

"I know… I don't know why I'm even telling you this. I don't…"

A soft snore came from somewhere by his neck, and Jonathan sighed softly. _I just admitted the last thing I wanted him to know right in his face. I'm a damn idiot._

Nick. The thought of him made his heart swell ever so slightly, first in affection and then in pain. His dark, slicked back hair, his pure, always-glimmering olive eyes, his scent… _God, I can't be any dumber today,_ Jonathan thought to himself. _I'm thinking about the man I want to forget about the most_. He felt his chest lurch as another memory swept over him.

 _Knock, knock, knock._ Three slow, almost weak knocks at his window. Jonathan peered up from his comic and slowly made his way to his curtains, drawing them apart as he pulled up his windows.

" _I was thinking you'd never come,_ " he slurred, his eyes half-closed with a silly, lovable smile plastered over his lips.

" _What on earth are you doing, Nick? You're drunk!_ "

" _I know,_ " He hiccoughed softly, and he clambered weakly through the window into Jonathan's room. " _I'm also braver tonight_."

Jonathan shut the window behind him and drew the curtains quickly, and turned towards Nick. He smiled at him and stumbled closer, an entire head taller, and pulled Jonathan into a tight embrace. He hastily pulled his head back, and pushed his lips eagerly against Jonathan's, gently alternating between nibbling his top and his bottom lip, as he stood rooted, staring wide-eyed at nothing.

Nick paused, and pulled away sadly. " _You don't feel the same way. God, I'm sorry. I… Pretend this never happened, then. I'll go._ " He turned to leave.

" _Nick,"_ Jonathan called out softly, prompting the man to turn back hopefully. Instantly, Jonathan threw himself at him, locking his arms around his neck and pulling their heads together as he returned the kiss with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. The kiss was messy and filled with inexperience on Jonathan's part, but it was heartfelt, as Nick soon ran his hands underneath Jonathan's shirt, feeling the soft, bare skin on his back, causing Jonathan to shiver joyfully.

Nick pulled away and held Jonathan tight against his chest. " _I've been dreaming about this forever. Thinking about you, thinking about saying this to you. Thinking about telling you how much I love you_." He began to nibble gently away at Jonathan's neck.

A slight ticklish movement by his jawline sent Jonathan tumbling back towards reality. Evan was gently moving, bobbing his head back and forth slightly as he nuzzled away sleepily at Jonathan's jaw. _That tickles_. He held back a giggle, not wanting to shake the man awake.

The nuzzling gently migrated southwards, trailing down the side of his neck. The sensations began to shift, and Jonathan shivered as a different feeling began to take over his body. Unconsciously, the man by his side was nicking the sensitive areas on his neck in his sleep – once, twice, thrice… and the blood in his body was beginning to rush in a different direction altogether. His body was heating up involuntarily, and the once-silent alarms in his head began to blare loudly, ringing out loud and clear in his mind. _I'm responding to my– one of my best friends!_

Jonathan shifted his head uncomfortably away from Evan, breaking the contact between them. His neck was still tingling from the gentle little brushes that Evan's nose and mouth provided against the skin of his neck, and his ears were buzzing furiously. He paced his breathing, inhaling and exhaling as he mentally willed the tightening in his pants to end, closing his eyes as he did. He pushed all thoughts out of his mind – of Nick, of Evan, of what Evan was doing to him. When his heart finally did begin to slow, it slowed to a pace so comfortable that the darkness and the dizziness in his head soon took over, sending him into the realm of dreams.

* * *

Evan awoke, his head whirling once more. The room was now warm. He opened his eyes reluctantly, expecting to see the blazing sun in his face. However, he was greeted by a relative darkness. Someone had kindly drawn the curtains for him, and the sun barely peeked through the thick red fabric. He sat up, looking around slowly in confusion, the still-hazy memories flooding back to him one by one.

He remembered lying next to Jonathan in the darkness, gently breathing in his scent, relishing the gentle, woodsy fragrance that he emanated, all as he lay with his nose gently kissing his neck. He remembered whispering to Jonathan in the darkness, learning about the man's past. They had been so close to each other, their bodies meeting each other's at so many points.

He looked over to the other bed in the room. The sheets were perfectly straight, with no crimps or creases upon its surface, and the comforter looked as though it had never been pulled back. A realization began to slowly dawn upon Evan, and his heart somersaulted in his chest – they had slept right next to each other, bodies touching, the entire night.

A delicious scent wafted by through the air and into the room, sending pangs of hunger shooting through Evan's stomach. Drawn to the smell, he shuffled out of the room and down the stairs.

Luke sat by the far end of the kitchen counter, digging into a plate of food whilst murmuring quietly every once in a while to Jonathan, who stood with his back against the rest of the world over the stove, working busily on a pan of food. The smell coming from the kitchen was absolutely mouthwatering.

"Ah, you're awake!" Luke called out as he caught sight of Evan, and took a sip from his mug. "Go wash up, bedhead, Jonathan's getting breakfast – well, brunch, really - ready."

 _Bedhead?_ His hand instantly shot up to his hair and tried to straighten it out as he proceeded back up the stairs. It was not until when he finally saw himself in the bathroom mirror, stripped down, did he realize what Luke meant.

His hair was sticking out in different directions, and his under-eyes looked swollen, puffy and dark. His lips were discolored, pale and dry, and he looked as though he had just came back to life from the dead. He sighed, and began his daily morning routine of stripping down all traces of disorder and tidying himself up to perfection. Once more, he emptied the darkest parts of himself down the drain with the water that washed down his body, and he cleaned off every part of his body and his face, and he brushed and shaved, and when he was finally satisfied with the order he had created in his appearance, he left the bathroom, fresh, clean, and ready for another day.

He made his way back down towards the kitchen and living area, to find Jonathan still cooking and Luke still lounging at the counter with his mug and polishing off the last of his food. This time, however, there was another plate of food laid out on the counter on the seat next to Luke's. He approached, frowning as he saw the contents.

"What's this?"

"Scrambled eggs on toast with tomatoes and a light dusting of chives." Jonathan answered, his back still turned on Evan.

"That sounds kind of weird. And kind of lame."

"Hey buddy, the first thing you'll learn in time is to never knock Jonathan's food before you try it." Luke assured.

"I'll take your word on it. It does smell kinda good."

He lifted the questionable mass of yellow, red and green and took a small bite on the corner of the toast, feeling the ever-familiar small crunch that came with it. _Toast seems fine_ , he thought. The next challenge, was the eggs. He aimed for another bite, scouring for a portion with a small bit of everything in it, and dug in. _It's really good_.

"It su-uuucks." Evan mock-whined, as Jonathan turned over momentarily to place a mug of coffee by his plate. As he turned back towards the stove, he heard Jonathan grumble under his breath.

"Fuck you."

Another plate of food and a mug of coffee appeared once more in Jonathan's hands, and he walked away, passing Luke and Evan, towards the stairs.

"Where are you goin'?" Luke called out.

"To give Mini his breakfast."

Luke chortled into his cup, and Evan watched him swallow a retort he had just on the tip of his tongue. He soon began again.

"So… had a good sleep?"

"I think. Hard to tell when you're drunk as balls, actually."

"Never been drunk, never drank, won't know. You really did look like a damn zombie earlier, you know?"

"I figured."

"Do you get drunk this often?" Luke asked, an eyebrow raised. "I mean, I've seen you drink plenty at cons and all, but I always thought they were just cons."

"I don't know, myself. I just do."

Luke's tone suddenly became serious as he turned towards Evan, his searching eyes peering straight into his own. "Look, speakin' of reckless behavior… I'm in no position to tell you what to do, but at this rate, someone's goin' to get hurt."

"What the hell are you on about?"

"I'm talking about you and Jonathan. He just walked out of a rough one with some girl, and the last thing he needs is someone puttin' him on the hook again. That's all I have to say, man."

He left Evan at the counter as he went by the sink to wash up his plate, as both Craig and Jonathan trudged down the stairs, and Craig settled himself on the counter with his plate and mug of coffee and continued with his meal, whilst Jonathan turned, barely glancing at Evan as he proceeded to tidy up the mess of the previous night.

"I swear to God, Jonathan will make a great wife." Craig said, his mouth full. "First he brings me breakfast in bed, and now I find that this is so fucking good."

Luke turned and walked towards the counter, allowing Evan to pass by him and wash up his plate distractedly as he listened to the banter occurring behind him.

"I know. Just watch him clean up the house." Luke joked. After a short pause, he continued, "Don't give me that look, man, if you were a chick I'd propose to you right now."

There was a sudden movement behind him, and Evan felt something large and soft hit his back forcefully, and the wet plate he held in his hands slipped out and onto the ground in shock, shattering into multiple fragments.

"Look what you did!" Craig accused. "And I only brought four plates!"

"I'm sorry!" Jonathan moaned. "I'll grab the slippers. You two stay still."

The patting of flip-flops against the floor soon resounded about the house. "Okay, Luke, I need you to get up on my back," Craig instructed.

"Evan. My back, now." Jonathan said in a low voice as he sidled up beside him, eyes averted.

Evan slung his wrists around Jonathan's neck and clambered on uncertainly, unwilling to put his full weight onto Jonathan's body. "You can't – woah!"

With a sudden burst of strength, Jonathan lifted Evan off the ground shakily, and swung them both backwards, taking two big steps backwards before settling a dumbfounded Evan back on the ground. A few grunts in the background directed his attention to Craig, who had just managed to carry Luke out of the area and set Luke back on his feet.

"God, you're heavy!" Craig complained.

"I'm sorry dude, you chose to carry me!"

"Do you think _I_ can carry Evan?"

"Did you think _Jonathan_ could carry _anyone_?"

Craig opened his mouth, and shut it instantly. Evan laughed silently in a corner, amused.

"Shut up, Evan. You just got carried by a guy smaller than you."

"I wasn't laughing!"

"Yeah, right." Craig rolled his eyes, and nested himself comfortably into the couch. "Plus, you broke the plate and you're making Jonathan sweep it all up. You're so terrible to our first class wife."

"S'okay. I got it." Jonathan said loudly as he carried the dustpan full of bin and dumped the contents in. "And shut up about the first class wife thing."

Evan watched as the dark-haired man peered out of the house for a moment, before hurrying up the stairs. He wondered deeply what thoughts were forming behind the mass of dark hair that covered his head, and what else lay beneath the pretty face of the friend he had always known.

Jonathan re-appeared at the foot of the stairs moments later, dressed in nothing else but a pair of navy swimming trunks that held tightly against his waist and bum. It was almost as though Evan's eyes were drawn to the man – to every curve and every inch of skin that he showed. Once again, he examined his back, his lower back, his ass… almost admiring every bit of Jonathan that he could see. He watched as Jonathan consciously wrapped a towel around his torso, and try to creep quietly past the back of the couch.

"Even the guys agree with me!" Craig called out loudly. "They say they'll marry you if you were a chick!"

Evan watched as Craig looked up from his phone, to find Jonathan creeping out of the side door to the poolside, and began gawking at the man, causing Luke to abruptly yell in annoyance, "He started swimming without us!"

* * *

Evan stared at the gracefully swimming body in the water, unable to tear his eyes away every single time Jonathan popped his head up for breath, causing his dark hair to cascade across his face.

"You're staring." Luke warned darkly as he slipped past him and into the pool, now dressed in his swim shorts. Evan followed suit, and lowered himself into the cool water beside Luke.

"I wasn't."

"Really? You think nobody else noticed, but me and Craig, we've been countin' the whole time. You look at him so much, it's like we don't exist." Luke hissed.

"I –"

"No, listen, Evan. I don't care about what's goin' on. But Jonathan, he's like a brother to me. You guys do anything stupid, that's fine by me, but if he gets hurt, that's not. You get me?"

Evan nodded slowly.

"Good. Do whatever you like, but the last thing I want is him breakin' into pieces." Luke murmured as he waddled away from Evan. He managed to take a few steps before –

"CANNONBALL!"

Craig came bounding from the house and leapt in the air, curling himself up into a ball right as he hit the water, causing a large wave to crash into each and every individual on impact. He emerged with a ball in his hands, looking utterly satisfied at himself as the other men began to close in on him.

"Hey guys, uh…" Craig began nervously.

"Cannonball, eh?" Jonathan raised an eyebrow, and splashed a large tidal wave at him, thus beginning a childish splash fight between the four.

"Enough!" Craig cried out, water in his eyes and his face completely red. "Are you guys going to spend the whole afternoon splashing each other or what?!"

"You started it," Evan pointed out, and plucked the ball that was beginning to float away from Craig from the water. "What's up with this?"

"Friendly match of modified water polo. What else are you going to do in the pool, stare at our asses?"

Evan chucked a handful of water at Craig in annoyance. "How're we going to do it?"

"Let's see… These two walls opposite each other will be our goals. I don't think we can afford goalkeepers, so it'll just be the four of us trying to score and prevent the other team from scoring the best we can. No strict rules except don't smash the ball in someone's face, obviously."

"I call dibs on Evan." Luke piped up.

"No fair! Evan's a hulk!" Craig groaned.

"And Jonathan is close to Olympic standards in swimming. It's fair enough. I get the big one, you get the fast one."

"Uhm… It's not exactly fair. I've got no experience in water polo." Jonathan admitted.

"Doesn't matter, you'll do fine." Evan assured warmly. He watched his pale cheeks go a mild tinge of pink.

"Alright, whatever. Ball in the middle, all of us back off to our sides of the pool. Ready? Go!"

The four men began to swim vigorously towards the middle in a mad race for the ball. Jonathan was proving himself the fastest, but as the men swam towards the ball, the waves slowly drifted the ball away, closer towards where Craig and Evan were. As they reached out towards the ball, their arms collided and the two were soon caught in a tussle. Luke and Jonathan, not hesitating for a moment, joins in on the fight for the ball.

By some form of luck, Jonathan manages to grab the ball from the middle of the chaotic little fight, and begins swimming as fast as he could to avoid the incoming tackles. His body maneuvered swiftly in the water, and he was just about to position himself for a throw when Evan's body came like a torpedo, slamming into his.

The two men froze as their bodies connected, the feeling of skin against muscle sending jolts of electricity through both their bodies. Evan could almost hear Luke's voice echoing in his head, repeating the words over and over again – " _You look at him so much, it's like we don't exist_ …"

The heat emanating from Jonathan's body was increasing, and Evan's body was heating up as well. The man beneath him quickly began to shimmy himself free, and Evan quickly let go of Jonathan's body, and a cheer erupted from Craig as the ball weakly hit the wall.

"That was a weak-ass ball," Luke jibed playfully as Jonathan turned to swim back towards Craig. "Why, did you spend all your strength wrestling the big guy?"

"Shut up." Jonathan stuck his tongue out at him.

The next round began, with Evan starting the ball from the wall. He aimed carefully for Luke's outstretched arms, and as soon as he lunged the ball towards Luke, he ran – and dove straight back into the water, swimming as fast as his limbs could take him. As he emerged back over the surface of the water, Craig had managed to wrestle the ball from Luke's hands, and made an effort to throw the ball towards Jonathan. The space straight ahead of him was clear – and Evan took the chance to intercept the ball.

Jonathan was faster, however. Upon seeing Evan approach, he swam up ahead, and quickly made a grab for the ball. He was all set to make the shot towards the wall – however, he had miscalculated one detail: Evan was extremely close up behind him.

Evan could almost feel Jonathan's breath up against his face as he turned around to face him. He could see the man's perfect blue eyes stare into his own, and he could see every detail of his face. He was close enough to see how each droplet of water clung off locks of his dark hair, and how his hair looked slightly brown in the sunlight. He saw the man's eyes widen with shock, and his lips part slightly at the sight of Evan, revealing a small, slightly visible, yet cute gap in his front teeth.

"Move," Jonathan whispered, still adorably wide-eyed.

"No," Evan breathed shakily. "I'm not going to let you score again."

He made a move towards Jonathan's arms, attempting to knock the ball out of his grasp, and as he did so, the ball flew upwards, and back down, Evan making a grab for it mid-air.

His efforts were soon thwarted by Craig, who launched himself forward, and launched the ball towards the wall, and as the ball hit the wall with a resounding thud, Evan was surrounded by cheers from Craig and Jonathan as they high-fived each other. As Jonathan's signature giggles sounded through the air, it was as though a wall had broken through in Evan's heart. Something in him was very slowly stirring itself awake, something that had been dormant for some time. Luke's annoyance was but a small buzz in his ear as he watched the man laugh and celebrate the unexpected success momentarily. There was an odd, incomprehensible feeling that he had with Jonathan that drew him closer and closer, and he could swear he –

 _Stop right there._ His heart stilled, and he shut his eyes for a second, feeling the world around him slow down. _Stop._ _This must not happen. Shut it now._ He re-opened his eyes and took a deep breath, letting his emotions slip away in a soft sigh. _See? It's alright now._ _You don't feel anything anymore._

"God _damn_ ," Luke groaned several rounds later. "Man, Sarah was right about you being off your game recently, huh? They're actually winning."

"Hey, I didn't promise anything. I'm a hockey player, I'm better on two feet and on ice." Evan grimaced.

"Hm." Luke replied, barely paying attention. "We've got to stop now. Sun's starting to creep in."

Jonathan shot a look back at Luke almost pitifully.

"What d'you mean, we've got to stop?" Craig asked incredulously.

"He means the sun's going to take over the pool soon and if I don't hide in a shaded corner, I'm going to burn into pieces by the time this whole thing ends."

"Aw, come on. You sure it's not just a ploy to get our winning streak down?" Craig asked, but Jonathan had already proceeded to a small corner in the shadows and pulled himself out of the water, leaving only his legs submerged.

"I don't think so. Besides, we've been playing for quite some time. It's about time to take a small break." Evan called out as he waded towards the darker end of the pool.

"Man, if we're not playing anymore, I'm going to go get a shower." Craig said.

"Go then. The rest of you, too." Jonathan answered, making kicking motions in the water.

"And you?" Luke stared at him incredulously as he clambered out of the pool alongside Craig, water dripping from his hair and beard.

"I'll stay a little longer." Jonathan murmured as he continued to play with the water.

The two men left with their towels slung around their bodies, leaving a trail of water behind them as they stumbled back into the house. The poolside grew silent, with only the sound of water softly moving about as Jonathan kicked away in the water.

Evan drew himself out of the water and grabbed a towel from the lounge chair he had left it on. He approached Jonathan slowly, watching as the man shivered every once in a while as the breeze passed his bare torso, and as he settled himself beside him, submerging his legs in the water, he wrapped the towel around the man.

"Why aren't you going to wash up?" Jonathan asked quietly.

"There are only two bathrooms, no?" Evan replied, feeling an odd tension build up between them.

"Oh." Jonathan acknowledged simply, and continued to play with the water with his feet.

 _Say something, Evan, come on…Anything's fine, just say something_!

"I've spent so long out here, my fingers have gone all wrinkly." Evan began. "I wonder why those two are taking so long."

"Mhm." Jonathan merely hummed.

"Er… Oh yeah, about the ice skating thing. I've had your water, now you'll have to go on ice. How does next week sound?"

"Sounds good."

"Okay, that's it," Evan sighed. "There's an elephant in the room and I think I know what's up. I got wasted, and I did something I shouldn't have done, or said something I shouldn't have said, didn't I?"

He watched as Jonathan froze, his legs stilling in the water. _Nail on the head_.

"I know I made you do some crappy drunk confession thing, and I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable. Right now, I don't even know what made me do it." Evan continued earnestly.

"It's not that! It's –" Jonathan suddenly said, rather loudly, his face turning towards Evan's, flushing. "It's just that… you were eating my face halfway through the night. And I couldn't get away, my arm was trapped under your head."

His words sent a million shockwaves through Evan's mind. He had made a move on Jonathan. Unknowingly, he had done something he shouldn't have.

"That… that doesn't sound very pleasant." Evan began again after a long pause. "I'm really sorry. I hope you didn't take it the wrong way. I probably dreamt of a feast, or something."

Jonathan frowned at him, the odd tension easing from his face. "You dreamt of a feast?"

"I think. I don't know. I barely ever remember my own dreams. When I do, it's a blur, anyway."

A soft hum rose from Jonathan's chest. "That's funny."

"Why?"

"When I dream, I dream very clearly. I see things in my head, and I hear voices and sounds, just like in real life, except it isn't real. Sometimes it's more like a movie and it barely makes any sense, but it's still clear." Jonathan explained.

"Wow," Evan breathed, awed. "Never experienced that before. Would be nice to see what you see."

A silence followed his words, and Jonathan resumed his kicking motions in the water.

"So what's about that guy Nick you were talking about? Was he hot?"

"I… was hoping you'd be too drunk to remember." Jonathan said in a small voice.

"It's hazy, but I remember it all right. Tell me about him."

"I thought I told you!"

"No, I meant… when did you first figure out you liked him? Or that you liked guys, in general." Evan asked slowly, his mind buzzing away.

Jonathan kicked away at the water, thoughtful and silent. After a moment, he spoke.

"He was… really nice to me. Different. And he was always so cool, too. Just… at some point, I didn't feel like I could see him as just a friend. I started thinking about him so much, and feeling so strongly for him… it was very confusing at first. And then… it sort of became clear, what I was feeling for him."

Evan swallowed his words in silence. Somehow, somewhere, deep in his heart, there was a twinge of discomfort at the mention of a faceless man in Jonathan's memory. The same area wanted so badly to take action, to do something to Jonathan, be it to throw him to the ground or to tackle him into the water. His agitation stilled, then, as his rational mind took hold. _Don't be silly_ , it urged.

"Are you still with him, then?" Evan barely managed to choke out through clenched teeth.

Jonathan shook his head. "Don't ask me why, either. I don't want to talk about it."

"And any luck since then?"

"There was… Liselle. We met a year or so ago, and she really seemed to get me. For a bit. We've been on and off since then, but… I think we're really done this time."

"Sorry." Evan murmured – but he wasn't in the least bit sorry at all. _You're such a jerk_ , a part of his brain thought, irked at the joy leaping away in his heart.

"Enough about me. What about you and Sarah?" Jonathan's voice cut in.

"What do you mean, how about me and Sarah? You guys already know the full story."

"Any plans with her, I mean. She seems… nice." Jonathan hesitated on the final word.

 _Plans. What plans do I have with…?_

"Not… yet. I mean, who doesn't want to get married, have kids? But… I don't know what I'm doing now, really."

The two men were dreadfully silent for the next minute.

"Hey, Jonathan!" Luke's voice echoed as he poked his head out of the porch. "Go take a bath! I've turned up the heater so don't complain about the cold!"

Jonathan pulled himself out of the water and followed after Luke's voice into the house. Evan never took his eyes off the man's back, and as the man disappeared into the house, he sighed heavily, wishing he could submerge himself underneath the water and never emerge again. _I should be happy_ , he thought. _I have everything. I have Sarah. I have friends. I have a career. What else do I want? What else am I missing?_

* * *

Craig had grilled up a few leftover sausages and fried up the last of the eggs as well as potatoes and left a plate of the makeshift dinner for Evan as he came down the stairs, emptied once more of emotions and burdens, and as he ate, the three others lounged on the couch lazily, discussing which movie to watch – all of which sounded ridiculously unappealing to Evan.

The sky was an impenetrable darkness by the time Evan was finished with both his bath and his dinner. He plonked his body down on the couch beside Jonathan, who shifted slightly to make space for his body, never once shifting as he lay sprawled across a corner of the couch.

"Okay guys," Craig announced dramatically as he turned the lights down, leaving the television as the sole source of light in the entire room. "By a unanimous vote –"

" _Not_ a unanimous vote," Luke interjected.

"By a unanimous vote," Craig repeated, annoyance coloring his tone, "we shall now begin… a movie that nobody has ever watched before!"

He clicked a button on a remote, and the screen went dark. A few lines of text appeared on the screen as the shot panned over a landscape of sand.

"God, I'm bored already." Jonathan whined softly. "What sort of damn flick is this supposed to be, anyway?"

"Just shut up and watch," Craig instructed.

"If I don't fall asleep first," Jonathan murmured.

And soon he did. Just as Evan felt his eyes drooping as a blur of characters paraded themselves across the screen, rushing through their incoherent dialogue about incomprehensible events – he heard a soft snore emerge from beside him where Jonathan lay. He looked over to see the man sound asleep, his plump pink lips gently parted and his chest heaving slightly as he breathed. His heart swelled as he watched Jonathan sleep, and for a moment, was lost in the sight of it. Evan soon shook himself awake, and stood up, stretching.

"Alright. I'm done. You guys can watch this shitty movie for the rest of the night. I'm tired, and so is _he_ , so… goodnight, and have fun, you dumb shits."

"What?! But – we're not even halfway –" Craig stammered, lost for words.

"I'm cooped, dude. Jonathan's already gone. He's been up for god knows how long, and he made your breakfast while your ass was in bed."

"Let 'em go, dude." Luke shot a look at Craig through the darkness. "I'll stick through this one with you."

Craig raised an eyebrow at Luke, and gave up almost instantly. Evan leaned over Jonathan and gently slid an arm beneath his neck, with another beneath his knees, and lifted the man carefully, making sure that Jonathan did not awaken from his slumber. Slowly, he walked towards the stairs and made a laborious climb up to the top of the steps, before heading for their room, swearing quietly to himself that he could have heard a heated, whispered discussion take place between Luke and Craig beneath his feet.

He teetered about a little as he lay a still-sleeping Jonathan on his bed, covering his body with the comforter. He was similarly exhausted after an afternoon of swimming about, and as he finally shut the door, turned on the air-conditioning in the room and sank his body wearily into his own bed, he was instantly compelled to shut his eyes and drift off to sleep. Just as Evan was on the verge of falling asleep, he heard Jonathan's voice softly murmur through the silence of the room.

"Evan... Evan…"

Evan's eyes shot open, and he turned towards the form of the still-sleeping man, watching as Jonathan thrashed about tumultuously in his sleep.

"Evan…stop… I'll fall…Don't…" Jonathan pleaded softly.

Evan lifted his body off his bed, still sleep-ridden, and sidled over to Jonathan. "Jonathan…" He purred softly, lifting his body onto Jonathan's bed, and he lay beside the man, their noses gently touching. He began gently caressing his cheeks, his thumb lingering over his lips. "I'm here for you."

Whatever magic Evan had on Jonathan, he did not know or understand. All Evan knew in the moment was that as their bodies came together, Jonathan stilled and calmed down and his murmurs grew soft and less panicky. Throwing his arms around Jonathan, he succumbed finally to the sleepy haze in his head, not caring that he was beside the man that had made his heart go into a heated conflict the moment he had appeared.


	8. Chapter 8 - Conscious

They were standing in a barren wasteland, atop a cliff, with Jonathan at the very edge of it. He heard the sound of small rocks crumbling beneath his feet, and a deep, dark fear washed over his body. He shuddered at the sound of it, at the sound of his impending doom. Yet, he could not move. Moving would mean being closer to Evan, brushing past his body on this god-damned narrow cliff. It would mean going to the moon and crashing straight down to hell in the very same moment.

" _Jonathan_ ," Evan begged. " _Please, come to me._ "

Jonathan shook his head. " _Evan…_ "

" _Jonathan…_ " Evan repeated, holding out his hand. " _Please, it's okay. Aren't we friends? Best friends?_ "

He tried to take a step closer, but hesitated. A wrenching feeling grabbed at Jonathan's chest, pulling away at the strings in his heart. _Please,_ he plead silently in his head. His eyes were beginning to burn and his vision was beginning to blur as it became harder and harder for him to keep his stinging eyes open. He blinked, and he felt the droplets of hot tears cascade down his cheeks. The harrowing feeling dug deeper into his chest, eating away at every inch of his sanity.

" _Jonathan, don't… don't cry…_ " Evan murmured softly, concern rising in his voice. " _It'll be alright. Just take a step forward, to me._ "

" _I can't, Evan… please, don't…please… stop… I'll fall_ …" Jonathan sobbed, the tears never ending, streaking across his cheeks like large gashes.

" _You won't if you come to me_. _Please, Jonathan… just take my hand._ "

Rocks crumbled further beneath his feet. Jonathan shook his head once more, refusing to give in. A crack was beginning to appear, the line darkening on the sandy rock he was standing upon.

" _Why?_ " Evan asked, hurt. " _Why don't you want to take my hand and live_?"

" _I can't, Evan…it's too much…I'll die both ways._ "

" _So why don't you at least die in my arms?_ " Evan's voice began to crack, his perfect features contorting into an expression of pure sorrow and hurt. " _Please… let me be with you. I lo –_ "

" _Don't say it!"_ Jonathan yelled. _"Please don't…_ "

The rock crackled once more, this time even louder than before. He only had moments – _to give in to Evan or to die_. One of his greatest fears pitched against the prospect of falling hopelessly in love with the man he had so determinedly became friends with, and risk ruining everything. _Such a stupid choice to make._ Jonathan closed his teary eyes, his heart pounding in his chest through the pain. _I am going to die_.

A deep rumble resounded, and he felt the solid rock beneath his feet give way. Above the noise was Evan's screams of agony as he watched Jonathan fall through the emptiness into the incoming abyss.

 _I'm sorry, Evan_ , he thought as he fell. _I'm so sorry. I mustn't. You can't. You mustn't know how I've felt all this time. You mustn't know how I'm beginning to feel._

" _Jonathan_!" Evan yelled, much louder and much closer. His eyes snapped open, tears still clinging on to his lashes, to see Evan diving down towards him, his arms outreached.

" _Evan, no!_ " Jonathan choked out as Evan caught up, taking Jonathan into his arms, the two men tumbling straight downwards into nothingness in a tight embrace.

" _Why_?" Jonathan cried softly into Evan's chest, his tears leaving dark spots on his shirt. " _Why do you do this to me? Why, Evan, why?_ "

" _I love you, Jonathan_. _I can't let you do this to yourself_."

And with these words, Jonathan felt as though he could shatter into a million fragments, scattered in the wind. A few words to make him to crumble into pieces and have his heart take flight and break all at the same time. The only thing that held him together was Evan – his strong arms wrapped firmly around his body as they fell through the darkness –

Except they weren't falling anymore. They were suspended in mid-air, a warm breeze blowing through their bodies. There was a gentle caress against his cheeks – Evan was gently wiping away his tears, a pained, yet satisfied look upon his face.

" _Evan_?" Jonathan mumbled weakly.

 _"Shush. I'm here for you."_

The light was blinding, swelling around them both, consuming everything in sight.

Jonathan peeked out from beneath his lashes. He fully expected to see bright rays of sunlight hitting his eye from an angle, and to see Evan's sleeping form opposite him on his bed, with his lips gently parted as he slept, revealing a speckle of beautiful and sparkling whites. He expected Evan to be wrapped warmly under his own comforter, a slight, adorable snore forming on his lips, a caricature of a large sleeping kitten. He expected all that.

What he saw, however, went beyond his expectations. The sunlight never hit his face, and Evan was not on his own bed, under his own comforter. Right beside him was a man more perfect than everything else in the world, the sunlight gently bouncing off the side of his tanned skin, creating a golden glow that illuminated his face as he slept peacefully on. Jonathan blinked, once, twice, trying to blink away the blurriness in his eyes and focus on the man that slept so close next to him, his gently pouting lips so accessible to him. He could feel Evan breathing warmly against his jaw, and their noses were gently kissing. A strong, almost irrational urge to see the warm brown eyes underneath the closed lids overcame him, and he smiled weakly to himself. Unable to restrain himself any longer, he pulled an arm out from underneath one of Evan's that was still gently wrapped around his waist, and allowed his fingers to wander up towards Evan's face, brushing the soft mound of his lips gently and caressing his temples and his eyelids. He admired the sharpness of his nose and his jawline, and he playfully brushed the tip of his nose gently, watching as Evan twitched sleepily in response to his touch.

It was a long, protracted moment before he realized that there was an odd, almost embarrassing discomfort between them, digging gently into his hip. When he finally realized what was happening, Jonathan almost leapt straight out of bed, only held back by the thought of keeping the poor man asleep. His face grew by a thousand degrees right there and there, his embarrassment almost searing straight through the skin on his cheeks.

Gently, he lifted Evan's arm from his waist and peeled away from the sleeping man, still blushing furiously at the thought of what was happening to the still-unconscious and unaware Evan. With slightly trembling fingers he dug through his bag for some clothes and a towel, and headed into the bathroom to wash up, attempting to avoid looking at Evan in the process.

Halfway through the shower, as he soaped himself up, he heard a loud, yet muffled voice announce itself in the bedroom. _God damn it, Luke,_ Jonathan thought to himself. _Evan's still sleeping_.

He heard a long, sleepy groan – Evan was stirring awake. Jonathan wondered if he was grumpy and annoyed from such a rude awakening, and silently cursed Luke under his breath once more.

A knock upon the door. "What?" Jonathan called out in response.

"Hey," Luke called out from the other side of the door. "Craig's taking a long-ass shit, so I have to buy breakfast for you shits. What d'you want?"

Jonathan thought for a moment, before casually replying, "The usual."

He could almost see Luke furrowing his brows at him through the door.

"The usual _what_? Sandwich? Pancakes? Sausages?"

"Sausage." Jonathan paused, and then added, "Biscuit." He suppressed a laugh as he pictured Luke frowning at the door, utterly done with his antics.

"Sausages and biscuits or sausage biscuits?"

"Sausages with sausage biscuits?" Jonathan bit his lip, muffling his laugh.

Luke made an angry growl. "I'm just gettin' you some goddamned egg and sausage sandwiches. You better be done when I'm back."

He heard as Luke grumbled his way out of the room, the noise becoming more and more distant. He returned to lathering his body up with soap, enjoying the clean, soapy smell the shower gel was giving off. When he finally felt his fingers begin to wrinkle from the soap and moisture, he reluctantly started the water up again, rinsing all of the foam off his body.

Someone was once again knocking on the bathroom door, this time desperately, yet weakly.

"What?" Jonathan called out, shutting off the shower head.

"You're taking forever and I need the toilet," Evan groaned softly, remnants of sleep still dripping from his voice. "Urgently."

"Please," Evan whined. "I'll only take a minute, I swear. And you can pull back the shower curtains and everything and I won't see a thing, so please just let me in."

Jonathan glanced at the doorknob that lay ever so far away from the shower. "Give me a second. Don't wet yourself until then."

He clambered out carefully from the shower and took small, deep breaths, before unlocking the door. Instantly, he raced back towards the shower just as he heard the door swing open. He felt a cold breeze brush itself against his whole back as he drew the shower curtains hastily, and he could have sworn that he heard a flustered, murmured apology from Evan just as the shower curtains fully separated the two men. He was almost quite sure in the moment that Evan had caught a glimpse of him in the nude, and despite the breeziness that the open door was inviting into the bathroom, Jonathan could feel his body temperature rising.

He turned the shower back on, the combination of the water running down his body and the draft that was coming in making him shiver slightly. The fact that Evan was only mere meters away caused a different shiver in his chest.

He heard a small sigh of relief from Evan, and a loud flush. The tap ran for a thoughtful moment, and soon Evan exited the bathroom with an audible click of the door.

Jonathan peeked out from behind the shower curtains uncertainly, before deciding to end his shower right there. He dried and dressed, and began to finish up his morning routine.

Evan lay on his own bed this time, his attention occupied by some activity on his phone. As Jonathan exited the bathroom and began to pack up his bath items, he indicated in a small voice that Evan could now use the bathroom to wash up. He spied from the corner of his eye as Evan hopped up from his spot on the bed and into the bathroom with only a towel, and wondered if Evan intended on coming out of the bathroom undressed. The thought sent electric currents surging through his body, and he lay back on his bed stomach-down, his face pointed away towards Evan's bed.

 _It smells good here_ , he thought as he sucked in a deep breath at where Evan's head lay up to mere moments ago. A fresh, woodsy musk filled his lungs as he sniffed again at Evan's side of the pillow – he smelled like a fresh meadow mixed with a tinge of vanilla. It was a strangely intoxicating, yet mild scent, and Jonathan thought quietly to himself – _I could get used to this perfection_.

He heard the bathroom door open again sooner than he had expected, with Evan emerging from within, a terrycloth towel wrapped tightly around his waist and his bare torso glistening with wetness. Jonathan flipped over, and immediately averted his eyes. "Do you need me to get out?"

Evan shrugged, and rummaged through his bag for clothes. "We're both dudes, there's not much problem here. I've always dressed and undressed with my teammates in the same locker room before."

"Except I'm not your teammate and I'm not used to that." Jonathan replied, and flipped over once more as Evan made a motion to pull the towel off his body, his face now facing a wall, obscuring the sight of his steadily reddening face from Evan.

"You sounded like you were having a nightmare last night or something." Evan said casually, changing the subject.

"Hmm. Not really. It was… kind of scary at first, but then it just grew a little sad." Jonathan murmured into the sheets, recalling the dream.

Evan paused for a moment. "Sad?"

"Bittersweet, you could say. Something that I didn't really want to see happen just happened. It wasn't _bad_ , but… I didn't really want it that way, either."

A soft sigh. _Is that relief I hear, or is that…?_

"At the very least, it wasn't a nightmare. You were thrashing around in your sleep so much, I thought you were fighting some demon in your dreams. Did you at least have enough sleep, though?"

"I… think." Jonathan paused, and chuckled softly. "Until I woke up to find some guy beside me poking my leg with a stick."

"I – what stick?!" Evan's agitation came out in a harsh whisper.

"I don't know, ask the guy who poked me with it. I'd almost think he was really happy to see me."

"It's a natural body process, _okay_! You've probably woken up that way before yourself!"

Jonathan snickered out loud, and Evan sighed, giving up.

"At least you're acting more like yourself now."

Jonathan turned and looked up at a now fully-clothed Evan, decked out in a tight grey shirt and denim jeans.

"What do you mean?"

"Delirious went missing for the longest time. I kept wondering how long you're going to act all uncomfortable and unlike yourself, and then I think he's finally coming back. Finally warming up to everyone, aren't you?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I haven't felt like this in a while, too. I couldn't be myself no matter how normal I tried to act. Finally feels like… I might be getting closer to being myself again."

Evan gave him a small smile. "I missed hearing you laugh like that. You always seem so ridiculously happy when you do."

"I'm happy now. Kind of." Jonathan said as a matter-of-factly.

"Sounds like you're inching closer to being as happy as you used to be." Evan's smile widened as he made his way out of the room, drying his wet hair with a towel.

 _A little closer…but not close_ , Jonathan thought. There was still something in the way, something that made him feel off. The feeling of discomfort ever since he landed in L.A. had mostly subsided, but bits and pieces of it still remained, keeping him from feeling like himself. Inadvertently, he had begun to do something he used to do whenever he felt uncomfortable around Nick and the rest of the football team – he had begun to shy away, hiding his true self and acting like he barely wanted to be there. Keeping things to himself, leaving words unsaid and acting all proper… _I thought I'd thrown all that away when we parted, and even more so when I left college all on my own. I thought I'd left it all behind_.

* * *

"Food's here, you lazy bums," Luke announced as he slid in, hands full of bags. Evan was sipping a cup of coffee with Craig at the counter, whilst Jonathan lounged on the couch, his legs dangling lazily off the side as he watched Evan's recent Dead Realm video, giggling to himself as he heard his own words repeated back to him. Almost instantly as Luke set the food down on the counter and started to open up the packages of food, his attention was diverted to the scent of breakfast, and he came bounding towards the counter.

"Sounded like someone was enjoying watching himself squeezing into someone's hole," Craig sniggered as Jonathan approached.

"Hey, it was a good video. Evan did a good job editing, and it was funny."

"I thought you'd be at least a tiny bit embarrassed about what you said."

"If was so easily embarrassed by what I say, I wouldn't have the guts to be here in front of you today," Jonathan replied with a tone of finality, and dug into his egg and sausage sandwich hungrily. He caught Evan's eye as Evan stared at him blankly, and casually asked, "What?"

Evan blinked, as though he was suddenly brought back to reality. "Oh. Nothing. I was just thinking about something."

"Like?" Craig pressed, eyebrow raised.

"Like… how I need to handle the check out later, so you guys should head home first." Evan replied quietly.

" _Really_?" Craig narrowed his eyes, only to wince in pain as Luke kicked his shin underneath the chairs from beside him.

"Yeah. We've got to pack up quickly, the check-out time is noon." Evan lowered his head and focused on his food, falling silent again.

"Well, there ain't much to pack. Jonathan pretty much did most of it yesterday morning and if I'm not wrong he'll just go and make all the beds once he's done with his food." Luke chuckled softly to himself, prompting Jonathan to flip him the bird.

"I don't think we should worry so much. The housekeeping staff is coming in anyway. Just make sure you bring everything with you. I think I'll get an Uber for you two first." Craig wiped his mouth and whipped out his phone, his brows furrowed in concentration.

"Thanks, dude. And thanks, Evan. It's been a really nice weekend."

Evan grunted softly in response, forking food distractedly into his mouth.

Soon, the breakfast items were cleared and food packages disposed of. Beds were made and bathrooms cleared of shower items, and bags were carried down into the living area. The house was returned to its original state, and their weekend together was coming to an end. A stillness was settling over the house, devoid of the noise and the liveliness that the four had brought the house over the past few days.

"The Uber's here. I guess it's goodbye for now, huh?" Craig spoke as Luke and Jonathan slung their bags over their shoulders, ready to go.

Jonathan held out his arms and took Craig into a giant bear hug, swaying from side to side. "You'll see us again sooner than you think. Besides, we get to play every other day. Don't make it sound like we're never going to hear from each other ever again."

"You have no idea how great it's been to see you. I'm honored I'm at least the second in line to see you in person, Delirious." Craig moaned into his shoulder.

"Alright, no bawlin' now." Luke grinned, and joined in on the hug. "We'll hear from each other soon, and we can get to hang out at the cons and everythin'."

The hug came apart, and the three were left staring at each other appreciatively.

"Where's Evan?" Luke queried.

"I think he went to check out. That and he probably got sick of seeing you guys or something."

"I heard someone talking shit," Evan growled, appearing from nowhere. "I've checked us all out, so we've got to clear out now."

"I know, we're goin', we're goin'," Luke sighed, and turned, walking away from the house.

"Uhm. Goodbye, I guess. Thanks again for the weekend, Evan." Jonathan gave a warm smile. "I'll remind Luke about the ice skating thing next week. And you can call him, too, if you don't trust me." He turned, and waved behind him as he followed after Luke. "Bye!"

Increasingly distant farewells echoed as the two got into the car, and they drove off, away from a waving Evan and Craig.

"So," Luke grilled after a moment, "are you sure you're alright leaving things with Evan like that?"

"What do you mean?" Jonathan replied, turning away from the scenery whizzing by outside the car.

"You're not thinkin' about Liselle anymore. But Evan is a problem now, isn't he?"

Jonathan let out a heavy sigh. "I don't know how I feel anymore. Before… I was so sure I didn't feel _that way_ , you know? I thought it was just straight-up admiration, and no more. And now, I don't know anymore. I don't even know if I'm still _just_ admiring him."

"D'you think you've… _fallen_ for him?"

"I don't know… I really don't. Not yet. It feels like it… but I'm not sure. I feel like I'm really close to the answer, but I don't have one yet. I don't even know why I feel like this."

"He was sleeping with his arms around you, for a start."

A surprised tingle shot through the entirety of Jonathan's body. "How did you know?!"

"Did you really think it was a coincidence that I only asked if you wanted breakfast when I did?" Luke asked, his expression spelling all.

"You saw us." Jonathan gasped.

"I've never seen two people that needed more private space than you two. So I just left you two alone for a bit. Hell, when I went in the second time, I was half expectin' to walk out again and wait even longer."

Jonathan simply gaped.

"Look – I don't mind if you like him. You two look really cute together, to tell you the truth. But my worry still stands – Evan has a Sarah. If you get caught up in all this, you're going to end up hurtin', and so is he, and I don't want that."

"Luke," Jonathan said slowly, "I don't know how I feel. It's nice when he's close, but it's weird, too, and I don't want him to be close."

"Your conscience is speakin', that's what it is. It's good that it is."

"I don't know. I need some time to think."

"Take your time, buddy." Luke gently patted Jonathan's shoulder, a long-unused gesture of encouragement. _Thank you, Luke_ , Jonathan thought quietly as he turned away, watching as Los Angeles whizzed past his eyes once through the thick glass windows of the car.

* * *

Jonathan's phone buzzed in the darkness as he lay on the couch in the rental apartment once more, watching as the fan whizzed above his head hypnotically. Despite his attempts to lose consciousness for the night and go to sleep, he had found it incredibly difficult to do so – he had quite unfortunately gotten used to the comfort of the bed at the resort, and even more unfortunately so – the memories of Evan during the two days and nights that they spent together were haunting him. Everything from Evan's skin and muscles against his body right down to the scent that Evan emanated filled his mind, leaving him wide awake in the dark apartment in the middle of the night.

His phone buzzed again. Gingerly, he picked up the vibrating phone and swiped it, answering a call from no other than Evan.

"Hey. What's up?" Jonathan began.

"Nothing much. You guys never came online or messaged or anything, so I was wondering if you guys made it back fine. Just checking in."

"Hm," Jonathan hummed softly. "We're fine. Luke died on the bed and I'm just counting the number of times the fan turns."

"Oh. Did I wake you?"

"No, I couldn't sleep anyway. I didn't realize how uncomfortable the couch was. I miss having a bed now."

Evan laughed softly. "Go snuggle with Luke then. Assert your bed rights."

"Like hell he'll let me. I'll just find myself on the floor tomorrow morning with footprints all over my body."

"Hah. Like hell he will. I think he'll just cuddle you like a teddy bear."

"Right," Jonathan rolled his eyes. "I'm hanging up if you're just here to tease the crap out of me."

"Alright, I'll stop, I'll stop." Evan quickly responded, the humor still in his voice. "By the way, there's something I wanted to ask you but I never got around to doing it."

"Mm-hm?"

"Why is it that you're so adamant on calling most of us by our nicknames? I mean, everybody else calls me by my real name. I don't mind that you're calling me Vanoss most of the time, but everyone else calls me _Evan_ and there you are, calling me _Vanoss_ until you forget and just straight-up call me _Evan_. And you do the same for Tyler, too. Not to mention that you know Luke in person and you still call him 'Cartoonz' when you're playing with him."

"I've never really thought about it, to be honest. It's just… we're in game, and it feels sort of right." Jonathan explained.

"You really like separating your online life and your real life, don't you?" Evan sounded thoughtful. "Sometimes I wish I were you."

"Really? You wish you were a hockey mask-wearing clown?" Jonathan giggled.

"I wish I had a lower profile. Then nobody would care so much about what I'm doing in real life, or what I've got to my name. I mean, you've heard it all from me when I was dead drunk."

"You're fine. Relax. Look, what I did works for me, and what you did works, too. If anything, I wish I were you. What I can do, you can do even better, and what I can't do, you can."

Evan sighed softly. "You're a really great person, do you know that? You're always so unafraid of yourself. It's almost as if that weird kid you said you were didn't exist. I… I wish I met you back then. I would've needed you then. To be honest, without you, I don't know where I'd be. I wouldn't have met Marcel or Nogla or even Luke. I need you now, too."

Jonathan felt his heart swell and still in his chest, and the world around him seemed to stop. Every sound seemed to echo and linger in the air around him, and every particle seemed to still itself around him, unmoving. A glimmer seemed to appear before his eyes. He had his answer. He knew how he felt. Everything that had troubled him and every feeling that clung to his heart seemed to meld and fuse into a potent mix of joy, pain and delirium. He wished he could smile, laugh, dance around and cry all at once. He was in love with Evan, hopelessly in love with his best friend. He had been so close to the answer, so very close that morning, and all it took was three words to throw him over the edge. _I need you_.

He refused to breathe any more. Every memory of Evan over the past two days flashed past his mind, every touch, every breath, every scent and every sound. He wanted to scream right there and then, into the phone – _I love you, Evan!_

But he could not. He choked back his words and his feelings, sending himself into a slight coughing fit. His heart was leaping and soaring, yet burning and aching all at once. He was in love. Painfully so. _To think that I had no answer mere hours ago_ , he thought. _Or was I merely hoping I never needed to see it?_

"Are you okay?" Evan asked, concerned. "Don't tell me you're falling sick again."

"I'm alright," Jonathan choked out. "Choked on my spit. That's… the _nicest_ …thing you have ever said to me."

"Damn, you got me worried for a second. I mean… it's nice to get that off my chest. I don't often get to tell you how much I thank you for being… my friend."

"And thank you, too. For being one of my best friends for so long, and putting up with me."

"So…should we leave it at that? I feel like I'm depriving you from sleep." Evan asked after a long pause.

"Sure, sure…Goodnight, Evan." _I love you._

"Goodnight. See you next week."

The line went dead.

 _I love you, Evan. I love you._

He continued to lie there in the darkness, his heart hammering in his chest.

* * *

Nearly a week had passed, eventless. Jonathan flitted between exploring Los Angeles with Luke and playing and recording video games on his makeshift setup on the dining table. He could have seen hundreds, maybe thousands of faces in the time, each one with a different structure, with different qualities, some women having cute little noses, some men having strong chiseled chins, and despite all he had seen, he barely saw them. He would catch little details that would remind him of Evan – dark spiky hair, tanned skin, hooded eyes, a perfectly straight, shapely nose, a tender mound of soft pink for lips, not too thick, not too thin. He barely saw the faces of the people he passed in the streets, their faces but a blur, yet those features, those perfect, heavenly-blessed features stood out to him. He would watch distractedly as long fingers tapped against surfaces, creating a distinct rapping noise, and be reminded of Evan's hands, with his arms wrapped tightly around his body that one morning. His mind was full of Evan, his soul absorbed in the search for bits and pieces of him when he wasn't around.

"I can't take this anymore," Jonathan confessed to Luke one morning that week as they tucked into their breakfast cereal. "I'm in love, Luke. I'm in love with Evan. All I see is him. All I hear is him. Every time I hear someone laugh even a little like he does, I turn and expect to see him."

Luke looked utterly unsurprised. "I know. You already said it that time. Not directly. You went somethin' along the lines of 'I don't know the yet but I'm so close', but I pretty much knew what you felt."

"Did you think I was only holding back from saying it?"

"Close. I thought you just didn't want to admit it even though you knew it. And I was right. But don't go around bein' a home-wrecker, now." Luke responded solemnly, and smiled after a pause. "At least you're not lyin' to yourself anymore. You're also acting more… _you_. That's a good start."

"It still kinda hurts, though. In my chest. Not so much because I don't know how I feel, or because I'm confused and lost and not where I'm supposed to be… but because I know I can't tell him."

Luke reached out towards him and gently poked his forehead with his forefinger. "There'll be one day when you can tell him how you feel. The day isn't now, so hang in there, buddy."

They ate in silence for a bit, before Luke pressed for more information with barely contained excitement in his voice.

"When?"

"I don't know. Like I said, I've always admired him quite a bit. Coming here…made that grow into something else."

"I won't doubt it. You've been actin' weird since you came here. I missed hearing you laugh the way you do and being ridiculously honest with me. It was kinda like as if you never dropped the 'Nate' act. But I meant… when did you realize it?"

"That night when we came back from the resort. I couldn't sleep, and he called… and he told me he needed me. I couldn't _not_ realize then." Jonathan murmured, a small blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Was I being really weird?"

"Kind of. Craig noticed, too. We chalked it up to you bein' here and bein' near Evan for real and having Evan see how you're like in real life. If you want my honest opinion, you're not wrong about you not liking public attention, but a _small_ part of you has gotta be a little scared of how people are gonna think, how they're gonna think. If not, you'd have trusted them with a picture of yourself long ago, without the fear of attracting attention while hanging out and shit."

"I don't…" Jonathan began, but Luke interrupted him.

"It's just an idea I had. I pitched it to Craig, he thought it might've been a small part of your reasons, too. Just a small part. But don't change the subject. Evan told you he _needed_ you?!"

Jonathan nodded slowly, pursing his lips tightly to avoid saying anything more.

The tight-lipped treatment began then, lasting well even until the day they were due to go skating with Evan.

They waited outside their rental apartment for Evan, and as Luke opened his mouth, a cheeky smile playing on the corners of his lips, Jonathan interrupted his words.

"Not a word. I don't care what you know or what you want me to tell you now, but I can't focus if you're going to talk about him all the time."

"Sheesh. You sound like a schoolgirl with a crush." Jonathan glared at him, and Luke backed down. "Look, I was going to say that I'm not going to say anything else about Evan today, or even remind you that Sarah exists, okay? I'mma just going to let you two have your moment before we leave next week. Then you can go home happy and everythin' and try your best to forget anythin' ever hap- Oomph!"

Jonathan jumped onto him, taking him into a rough hug. "Thank you so much," he whispered into Luke's coat. "You're the best big brother ever."

A screech of tires filled the air, and Evan's voice called out sharply to them both. "Are you guys going to spend the rest of the day dating or are we still going to skate?"

"Dating," Jonathan yelled back playfully, his arms still wrapped around Luke. "You ain't taking my best friend away from me, Evan!"

He could visualize Evan and Luke shooting explanatory glances at each other behind his back, and giggled softly to himself.

"Get in, or I'm going without you two," Evan sighed, and Jonathan broke away from Luke. He sauntered over to the door by the passenger seat, and hesitated for a moment, gazing at Luke expectantly for reassurance. After a small nod from Luke, he took a deep breath and ducked into the car, seating himself right next to Evan, a small smile growing on his face.

The smile barely lasted. Almost half an hour later, he was wobbling about, grabbing onto anything solid that he could find as he attempted to walk on ice skates.

"How does anybody even walk on these, let alone skate on these?" Jonathan complained, frowning. "I'm going to bet the only thing I'm skating on is my ass today."

"I can't help you there," Luke grunted as he struggled to stand. "And Evan's too busy showin' off to help us."

He nodded towards the rink, where Evan had already entered and was skating away gracefully, a blur in a sea of white. Jonathan watched as he darted from one end of the rink to another, his heart stilling in a nervous bundle every single time Evan made a sharp swerve, still elegant as ever. The way Evan skated, it was as though he was walking, dancing and soaring all at once. He looked absolutely in his element. A soft sigh of appreciation escaped Jonathan's lips before he was even aware of it.

"Show off!" Luke called out, jeering slightly. Evan stopped, looking back at them both sheepishly, and began skating back towards the two.

"Sorry," Evan mumbled, and offered to help the two men into the rink. Within his first step onto the icy ground, Jonathan grabbed onto the railing for support, sliding wildly and uncontrollably, barely able to even stand.

"Okay, just – stop panicking for no reason!" Evan chided as he guided Luke past Jonathan. "Keep calm, bend your knees slightly, that's right – now try to propel yourself forward a little…"

"A little help here?" Jonathan whined softly, his legs flailing wildly beneath him as he slipped with every move he made.

Evan chuckled, and left Luke to his first attempts at slow skating.

"Holy fuck, just calm down, will you? Stop trying to move your legs so much." Jonathan kept still, regaining balance slowly.

"See? Now try to straighten up a little, but keep your legs bent so you can move without falling over." As Jonathan did so, Evan gently eased his hands away from the rails, clasping them with his firm grip. Jonathan felt the warmth rush over him, as though Evan was warming his hands through their gloves.

"Now… just waddle slightly to move."

"What if I fall?" Jonathan whispered, his voice shaking.

"Don't worry about it, I'm here, okay?" Evan stared straight into his eyes, his warm brown eyes emanating a sort of calmness. "Small glides, come on. I'll catch you if you even wobble."

Jonathan lifted his legs and tried to push himself forward, and Evan slid backwards smoothly, his eyes never tearing away from Jonathan's, and gently guided Jonathan across the stretch of ice.

"See? You're doing it. You're skating." Evan slowly loosened his grip, and Jonathan wobbled for a split second, before regaining his balance, still skating forward inch by inch.

"Evan, I…"

"Sssh. Just focus on keeping calm and moving forward." Evan shushed softly, his calm demeanor never fading for a fleeting moment. He loosened his grip further, their fingertips barely touching now. Jonathan continued to skate forward slowly, eager to close the gap between then, to make a grab for Evan's long warm fingers again, but Evan moved further and further away, prompting him to push himself further forward. His smile grew. "You're getting the hang of it. I'll go help Luke, then."

Abruptly, he was left all on his own as Evan turned sharply, skating away from him at the speed of light. There was no longer a goal for him to move towards, no handsome long fingers to reach towards, no Evan to try to get closer to. Jonathan sighed, and as the realization of his solitude began to grip him, panic took hold - _I can't do this alone!_ He flapped his arms about as his body spiraled out of control, and he looked hastily around for a wall or a railing to lean upon, but even before he could reach one, a slip of his feet landed his bum on the cold ice ground.

He could hear a muffled chuckle burst out from the distance. _Damn you_ , he thought. _Damn you for being so clumsy_.

He tried to prop himself up off the ground, tucking his legs underneath his body as he raised his body off the ice. As soon as he began to put weight on his feet, he began to tremble, his knees knocking slightly as his body swayed from side to side. He took a moment to stabilize himself before he straightened up, still shaking slightly, and started to make an effort to move forward again.

The cycle repeated itself over and over again as he continued to skate, panic and fall. Often he would find himself just about to skate properly, only to find that he could not slow down, sending his mind into a state of heightened fear and panic. The air in the rink would suddenly seem much drier and much colder, and he would stumble and fall, over and over again.

As he fell for the umpteenth time, he groaned softly, his bottom beginning to really ache from the constant impact and from the cold. A part of him simply wanted to leave the rink and have a nice rest with a nice cup of hot chocolate in his hands, yet another part of him could not bear the thought of leaving Evan –

 _Where is he, anyway_?

Almost as though his question had been answered, a gloved hand appeared by the side of his face. Long, inviting fingers connected to a sturdy palm.

"Come on, get up." Evan murmured in a low voice. "One more round around the rink and we'll stop, okay?"

Jonathan gladly took his hand, his heart pounding happily in his chest. Unexpectedly, as Evan helped him to his feet, their hands shifted – Evan's fingers were now intertwined with his. A rush of steady heat sent blood flowing straight to his cheeks at the thought of it, the thought that they were holding hands as a couple would.

Evan's cheeks were slightly flushed as well, and they stood there for what seemed like forever, glowering. Another distant chuckle - this time louder and closer to them – sent their senses fluttering back to them.

"Uh – one more round around the rink. Right. Uhm. Shall we go? It's really cold," Jonathan hastily urged.

Evan nodded quietly and began to lead, the two skating side by side with their fingers interlocked. Everything felt lighter and softer, and Jonathan felt incredibly safe with Evan's hand on his. No speed or sharp turn seemed to make the panic in his mind set off, and Evan anchored him so solidly to the ground without making him feel like he was about to fall. The world could have vanished right in front of their eyes, and Jonathan would still swear that he still felt right.

"Evan…" he softly mumbled.

Evan answered him with a small curious hum. "Hm?"

"I… you're good at this." Jonathan said. "Making people feel safe and good."

A small pause. "Did you feel… safe and good… that morning… too…?" Evan asked hesitantly, forcing his words out in small phrases.

"I think. However terrified I was at the start of my dreams that night… I wasn't terrified anymore in the morning."

Evan squeezed his hand slightly. "I'm glad," he whispered simply, in a tone that Jonathan could barely recognize. The conversation was brought to an end as they reached the exit of the rink, and they walked out slowly onto dry ground, towards where Luke had already sat waiting for them both. As they made their way back to the waiting area to change out of their skates, Jonathan exchanged a look with Luke behind Evan's back – with Luke bearing an amused expression on his face and Jonathan caught between sadness and annoyance.

* * *

As the car pulled up once again outside of their rental apartment building, Evan turned back towards the two men, with Jonathan now nestled beside Luke, having a silent, distressed conversation.

"Are you sure you two don't want to have dinner with me and Sarah?" Evan queried, biting his lip a little.

"It's okay, dude. We've got one more dinner the day before we leave, and we don't want to burden your wallet too much anymore. You've paid for pretty much everything we've done together the past month." Luke piped up, preparing to leave the car. "We'll fix dinner for ourselves, so don't worry about us. Take care on the way back."

Jonathan lingered for a moment, thinking of what to say as Evan turned his eyes back towards the road thoughtfully. Finally, he settled on something that had been biting away at him since the call they shared the night he got back to the rental apartment from the resort –

"I never got to tell you this properly when you called me, but… as much as you need me, I need you, too." Jonathan swallowed, and continued, "Goodbye, Evan. I'll see you soon."

He left the car and shut the door behind him, trailing behind Luke as he returned back to the apartment.

The silence in the car consumed Evan. His heart was swelling in all the wrong places, every inch of his skin and muscle in his chest aching. He sat still in his seat, all the strength drained from him. It had taken all the effort in the world to not drown in thoughts of Jonathan for the entirety of their trip. It had taken all his strength to stay away from the man who had, only moments ago, said something that could have made his heart leap straight out from his body, if not for his exhaustion. He had no energy to move, let alone to drive the car home.

 _What am I doing?_ He cried out loud in his head. _Why is this happening to me_?! _Why must this happen?!_ _It mustn't happen_. _I mustn't – not with him_ …

The memories of the day swirled in his head. He recalled it all perfectly – how those deep, ocean blue eyes looked straight into his as he gently held Jonathan's hands for the first time since their time at the beach, how the distress showed so beautifully and sadly in those pretty blue eyes. He recalled picking the man up as he fell once more, his body a small bundle on the ground, and taking Jonathan's hands – smaller than his, colder than his – into his own and looping his fingers through Jonathan's. " _You're good at this… making people feel safe and good_."

 _Safe and good, my ass,_ He chided himself. He wished someone would beat him up in that moment and knock some sense into him – _how am I making anyone feel safe and good now, when I'm hurting everybody_?

He hated himself. As the bright California sun began to set, Evan hated himself. He hated that he couldn't spend more time with a man that he had called one of his best friends. He hated that he wanted to push past calling him his best friend. He hated that he wanted to abandon everything with Sarah and run away. Most of all, he hated that he felt _happy_ for wanting such a thing. He hated that he was happy that day. Evan hated himself bitterly, so much that he could have screamed out loud and trashed his own car in a raging fit.

 _I have to make this right_. _I can make this right, I can solve all this_.

Evan straightened up, a small, angry surge of energy coursing through his body. A solution had keenly formed in his head. He knew what he had to do. He stepped on the accelerator, determined to make it to his destination on time.

 _I will fix this_ , he thought. _Everything's going to be alright_.

* * *

 _I sincerely apologize if this chapter isn't as long or as well written, and if the next few chapters follow the same pattern as well. I'm currently busy with real life commitments, so working on the story is a little tough at the moment. Nevertheless, once I've got my life back on track I'll get back to writing as smoothly as I used to. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!_

 _-Delmin_


	9. Chapter 9 - Cracks

"They're late," Luke quipped, his voice barely audible through the buzz in the pizzeria.

"And you were telling me to hurry up since Sarah made time for us tonight." Jonathan said, annoyed, and he mimicked Luke – " _Hurry up you idiot, we'll be late!_ "

Luke smacked him gently on his shoulder. "And we're on time, so we're not eating up any of _their_ time. Besides, it's our last night here, so look alive."

Jonathan groaned softly.

"I know, dude, it's been so great here I don't wanna go home, myself."

"You know the reason why I don't want to go back." Jonathan mumbled softly, burying his head into his arms on the table.

"Who's in a grumpy mood today?" Sarah's voice rang like a soft little bell in his ear.

"He isn't very happy about going home tomorrow morning." He heard Luke answer. "I ain't too happy either, it's been nice to spend time in a place where the weather isn't so botched for once. It's probably half-cold back in North Carolina. Either that or it's half-burning. Nobody knows."

Jonathan felt a small, delicate hand running through his hair. "Are you okay?"

Jonathan nodded, and finally propped his head up, the light flooding into his eyes too quickly, causing him to blink hastily. Sarah sat beside him, her warm smile emanating an incredible, yet incomprehensible joy, and Evan was next to Luke, quiet as ever, an odd, indiscernible expression plastered onto his face, almost as though there was a mild guilt lying deep within him.

"There he is!" Sarah said cheerily. "The way you were acting, I'd think you really don't like North Carolina."

"I… I, uh…" Jonathan began, not knowing what to say.

"He's also being a grouch because he didn't get to see you much during his holiday," Luke cut in, nodding at him. "The last time we saw you was, what, weeks ago?"

"I'm sorry," Sarah moaned. "It's been crazy at work the past couple of weeks. It was only _November_ and they started to dress up the store for _Christmas_. I swear to god, if I hear another Christmas carol, I'm going berserk."

"She's already ordered me to keep the Christmas decorations in the storage cupboard." Evan added softly.

"And not a single carol to be played. I don't think I'll ever get over this insanity," Sarah brushed her hair to the other side of her head. "Anyway, did you guys already order? I'm starving."

"One large pepperoni pizza. With extra pepperoni. Sounds good enough or do we need more?" Luke answered.

"Good enough. I hope _that_ 's ours because the last I've eaten was during the early lunch break and I can already feel my stomach begging me for food."

A waiter approached the table and settled a large pizza on their table. Giving their thanks, they began to split the slices amongst themselves, each taking a few nice big slices and pulling it onto their own plates. They ate heartily and hungrily like a pack of famished wolves, and as they all approached their final piece with the large platter that the pizza was served on moments ago now empty, Jonathan caught Luke's eye, shot a dark warning glance at him – _Don't you dare, you bitch_.

He heard a soft chuckle from Evan as the man observed their silent battle.

"What's so funny?" Sarah asked inquisitively.

"Luke has a – uh – nice appetite for pepperonis, apparently, and Jonathan is being territorial about his own."

"You make it sound like I'm some sorta monster, dude, I'm not that kinda person," Luke defended himself hotly, prompting Jonathan to roll his eyes at him.

"Says the guy who left only a slice of cheese-topped bread for me that time. And all it took was me re-filling my drink."

"I swear to god, bring that up again and I'm whoopin' your ass when we get back."

"What? There was an entire pizza, Luke, and you had to take mine?"

Luke made a disparaged sound, and proceeded to pinch a few slices of pepperoni off Jonathan's final pizza slice. His eyes widened at Luke dangerously, staring at the bearded man.

"Alright, alright, don't fight, you two," Sarah giggled softly. "Although I'm really tempted to just watch you two bicker over a few slices of pepperoni. Here, take a few from me. I'm not a big eater, anyway. I think I'm just about done."

Sarah gingerly placed her last two slices of pepperoni onto Jonathan's pizza slice, using her left hand like a dainty pincer. It was then that Jonathan caught a glimpse of something shining away brightly in the light of the pizzeria, a sharp shimmer attached to her ring finger on her left hand. He froze in that moment, stunned as realization began to dawn upon him – why Evan had remained so quiet the whole night, why Sarah was in incredibly good spirits the whole time. _They're getting married_. _Evan proposed to her and they're going to get married._

It was as though he had spoken his thoughts out loud. Evan looked down at his pizza slice blankly, and Sarah grinned at him, her delight breaking through.

"You're sharp. You've noticed," Sarah beamed happily, a small fire dancing in her eyes. "Well, it's no secret anymore, then. Evan proposed, and I couldn't be happier to say _yes_!"

Jonathan was still for a split second, and he forced his lips into the most natural grin that he could pull in the moment. He refused to let his truest feelings show – _not in front of Sarah, and definitely not in front of Evan. Not now._

"Congratulations!" Jonathan returned a smile. "I'm so, so happy for you both."

He stretched out a hand towards Evan, an invitation to a handshake that he really didn't mean. Deep inside, his world was crumbling apart, piece by piece, each fragment melting away as he watched the man that he loved crack an all-too-perfect, yet unfamiliar smile as he accepted Jonathan's congratulations. The handshake felt incredibly painful to the touch, and as their hands clasped over each other's, his skin burned. Evan's fingers were like long, sharp claws against his own hand, and the handshake could have ripped his arm from his body. The warm, long fingers that he had kept deeply etched in his mind were long gone. Before him, Evan was a messenger of pain, piercing him with countless arrows and swords.

Luke immediately intercepted Evan's attention, offering his congratulations and shaking his hand as well. Jonathan withdrew, mentally willing the smile to be nailed to his face. He would be happy for them. He would cheer them on. _What was I thinking, anyway? That Evan would fall for me? That Evan would leave Sarah for me? That because of that one moment, he loves me?_

 _You're an idiot, Jonathan_ , he yelled in his head. _Such a fool. Always such a fool._

"…right, Jonathan?" Luke's voice entered his head. Jonathan looked at him blankly, quietly prompting him for an explanation.

"What?" He choked out after a short pause.

"I was sayin'," Luke looked directly at Jonathan in the eyes, "that we should get going. We've got an early flight tomorrow morning and you're not done packing. So we'll settle the bill for this happy couple and rush back."

Luke's eyes spoke an entirely different story. _Pull yourself together, you can cry when we get back home_.

"Aw, are you sure? You both are on your last few bites. Plus, it's your last night, and we should make up for lost time." Sarah whined playfully, the glimmer in her eyes speaking astounding amounts of happiness.

"It's alright. We need to catch some sleep or Jonathan will be a grumpy little bitch tomorrow mornin'. So just let us settle the bill, and you two celebrate this on your own, okay?"

They stood, preparing to leave, and Sarah took Jonathan into a tight embrace. "I'm so glad that I've met you two," she announced as she hugged Luke as well, "do come back to L.A. soon. Evan and I are going to miss you two to death."

"Or you two can come down to North Carolina someday. We'll show you our mountains. That's if you'll tolerate the crazy weather there, though." Luke replied.

"That'd be really great, too. I wish we could send you two off tomorrow, but life gets in the way." Sarah sighed. "I really wish you two have a safe journey back."

"And I hope you two have a good night. Send us word when you've picked a date, will you?"

Sarah nodded, and waved her farewells to them two as Luke proceeded over to the cashier, whilst Jonathan headed outside into the cool of the night, his mask beginning to fail him. He could feel himself breaking apart, his tears threatening to flow out at any moment. Before he was even aware of it, droplets of tears were spilling out of his eyes, cascading down his cheeks painfully and landing on his dark blue jacket, creating little dark spots on his front. He was caught in a state of absolute grief, hidden away from the rest of the world.

"Evan…" He whispered under his breath as he cried.

* * *

He was standing on a grass field, his hair blowing in the wind. The night was perfect – the air was cool, the wind gently kissing his skin. _Nick is such a romantic_ , he thought as he raised his arms to his sides, embracing the cool air that rushed through the layers of fabric that separated him from the rest of the world. The breeze thrilled him, sending pleasant little shivers through his body.

" _Jonathan._ " Nick called out, his body half-hidden in the shadows. Dark circles had formed under his eyes, and he carried a look of exhaustion and fatigue.

" _Nick_!" Jonathan cried out happily, and jogged towards the man he had loved so much, the smile on his face growing, only faltering as he came closer. " _What happened to you?_ "

He reached out to touch Nick's face, where patches of red and purple met each other. Nick shied away, pushing his fingers away from his face.

" _Don't._ _Don't touch me_."

" _What happened to you?_ "

" _Doesn't matter, Jonathan_." He took a step out into the moonlight, his injuries and exhaustion coming into full light. Bruises lay at the corner of his lips, and his eyes were red, puffy and swollen.

" _Did Eric do this to you?_ " Jonathan reached out again.

" _Stop it, Jonathan, I said it doesn't matter!_ " Nick yelled, venom bleeding into his words. " _Stop fucking caring about me!_ "

It was as though he had thrust a knife straight through Jonathan.

" _Nick_ …" he choked.

" _Don't… don't look at me like that._ _I didn't call you out here today for this_."

" _Nick, I… we…_ "

" _We mustn't do what we've been doing anymore, Jonathan. No… We mustn't even see each other anymore._ "

Another invisible knife seemed to shoot out from the darkness and stab Jonathan straight in the heart. Every kiss, every touch, every gentle nibble… every memory seemed to burn and sear. His legs gave way, unable to support his heavy body any longer. _Don't cry,_ he thought. _Smile_.

" _I thought we were friends…_ " Jonathan croaked, his voice cracking through a forced smile. " _Nick, I thought we…_ "

" _Enough, Jonathan. Act normal or something. Don't come close to me anymore…that's the most I can do for you. Eric isn't going to like it, but…_ " Nick sighed, his eyes glistening. " _I lo-…"_

He paused, and readjusted himself before the words slipped out of his mouth. He took a deep breath, and began again.

" _I hope you understand. Goodbye, Jonathan._ "

Nick drifted back into the darkness, his eyes lingering on Jonathan's trembling form for a moment, before he turned his back and broke into a sprint into the distance.

Jonathan half-knelt in the middle of the grass field, the wind no longer his friend, but a powerful gale threatening to blow him away into dust. His eyes remained dry, and his mouth was crooked in a painful effort to keep up a smile. The grass field could have been a nail bed and he could have not felt a thing. Nick had thrown a brick straight into the depths of his soul, and broken the most fragile piece of him, shattering it into billions of fragments, the shock of it all coursing through his blood in tiny electrical pulses.

" _Jonathan!_ " Luke called out after what seemed like eons, a silhouette running towards him in the distance. " _Oh, god, I knew this would happen_!"

Jonathan mechanically shifted his head to look at the man as he approached, his smile beginning to falter and contort into a painful grimace. _Don't cry_ , his mind urged on. _Don't cry_.

" _Damn it_ ," Luke murmured, his brow furrowed. " _Jonathan, please say somethin'_."

Jonathan shook his head robotically. His body was so heavy, he was on the verge of collapse.

" _Jonathan, just – just lie down, or something_." Luke gently pressed, guiding his body down to the grass to face the dark sky above. Luke proceeded to lie beside him, his feet pointing in the opposite direction from Jonathan's body with Luke's face inches away from his.

" _I'm sorry about Nick_ ," Luke began, his breath warm against Jonathan's face. " _Please, don't be like this anymore_."

Something about the way they lay together on the grass field broke the barriers in the façade. Tears swelled in his eyes and flowed down the sides of his face and into the grass, hot, wet and salty. He drew a heavy, shaky breath, and began to sob helplessly to the heavens above, curling up into a fetal position on his side as he did. For the first time in a long time, he cried like a vulnerable child, his chest heaving and his sobs growing increasingly violent, the tears never ending. Luke's presence in the moment released an avalanche of emotions that he had held back.

The scene before him blurred and began to dissolve into darkness. It was as though Jonathan was being pulled out of one world and placed back into another, with the latter more real, and much more painful.

"It's been a long time since I saw him like that." Luke's voice softly hit Jonathan, agitated, yet hushed.

"I know he's an idiot, but if he thinks that's what he wants, we can't stop him, can we? Craig – look – we've gotta respect his decision, no matter what we think is good for him or not."

Another long pause followed his words.

"There ain't anything we can do about it! Look, one broken heart is better than three. I've known this kid since he was small, he'll live through this. –No, I don't care what you think, he's not that stupid. He's lived through some real tough break-ups and rejections before, he'll live through this just fine. He needs time, so give him some."

"– And what? We can't tell Evan about this. The last thing we need is to put ideas in his head now. The man's confused enough as is, so let him be."

"- I will. I've been doin' this since we were kids. I think I know how to handle him. Yeah. Bye. Take care of yourself, too."

A creak of the door and a few heavy footsteps announced Luke's return to the room.

"I didn't know the floor was so comfortable that you can sleep that long on it. Or rather, feign sleep."

Jonathan kept his eyes shut tightly, refusing to show any sign of response to Luke. _Leave me alone_ , he thought to himself.

The bed had lay abandoned and free of creases the night before. Jonathan had woken from his slumber in a mood, and the flight back had been a dreary mess. Jonathan had refused to speak to Luke, and the entire day was but a blur before his eyes as he replayed the moment over and over in his head as he realized Evan was beyond his grasp once and for all, and he had loved another unattainable man.

He could barely recall how the flight went or when they landed back in North Carolina, greeted by a light shower from the heavens. It was almost as though the heavens were crying for the man, crying tears that he could no longer push out from his own eyes.

He could barely recall how he ended up back in his own home, or how he and Luke came to lie on the ground, side by side, their feet pointed in opposite directions and their faces next to each other like how they had done so many years ago as Luke stripped the mask he had put on down to reveal his rawest emotions, except no tears could come to him this time, his body too exhausted to sob any further. They lay there, blankets draped loosely over their bodies, dark concerned eyes staring into a set of blank ones, until the ocean blues closed themselves off to the world, succumbing to physical and mental fatigue.

"Wake up," Luke called out again. "Hannah's coming over with breakfast soon, and I'm sick of bailing on her last minute so don't you complain."

 _Shut up,_ Jonathan thought again, his head still cloudy. _You don't know how I feel_.

Luke sighed heavily and walked out of the room once more, his footsteps light against the floorboard. The door creaked shut.

Jonathan stretched out lazily on the floor, his arms and legs meeting different layers of fabric. _I need a shower,_ the thought occurring to him as he curled back up into a bundle on the ground, the multiple blankets forming a nest around him. _I feel dirty_. _I probably stink_.

But he did not move a single inch from the ground, completely unmotivated to get up and clean up despite his abhorrence of the grimy feeling that was crawling on his skin. He silently wished for a tub of soapy water to appear and for some divine intervention to occur such that his body would be immersed within it.

A soft clicking of the door outside the room followed by a soft, high voice indicated Hannah's arrival. Jonathan turned his head slightly, orientating an ear towards the doorway to listen.

"How is he?" Hannah asked softly.

"Pretending to sleep. And tryin' to pretend that he's okay. Same old."

"Poor dear. First that girl Liselle, now this…"

"He's been through a lot more than this. He'll recover just fine with some time. I'll give him two weeks, and if he isn't gonna perk up by Christmas I'll beat it into him."

"Luke!" Hannah chided. "He needs love and care now, not a beating. That's the last thing he needs, especially on Christmas."

"If it wakes him up, I will do it," Luke murmured, reluctance clinging to his words. "I'd do anythin' to get him to stop pining and come back to life."

A small pause, followed by a soft smooching sound. "I've missed you," Hannah whispered. "It was killing me seeing that text from you last night about not coming home. I've missed you for a month and you were so close yet so far."

"I'm so sorry. But I couldn't leave him when he's like this."

"I know… I'm not blaming you. It's just so great that you're back. Now go wake him up, the food's going to get cold."

"I tried before. He's having fun playing dead."

 _I sure am. I wish I were dead._

"Go try again. He's got to eat something!"

A loud creak of the door announced Luke's presence in the room. "Wake up, you dumbass."

 _No._

He felt the blankets being pulled out from underneath him roughly, and his survival instincts kicked into play as he flailed about to soften the tumble out from his makeshift bed. His eyes shot open angrily, burning as he took in the intense brightness in the room suddenly.

"What the hell?!" Jonathan growled, rage barely boiling in his body.

"Get up and go wash up. You haven't taken a shower since yesterday and you're gonna stink if you sleep any longer. Plus, Hannah got you breakfast so be a nice little shit and enjoy her generosity."

"I don't wanna."

"Jonathan?" Hannah knocked gently on the door, and a pair of hazel eyes peeked through. "I've got you some pancakes and sausages and scrambled eggs. Does that sound good?"

Her voice was insanely soothing and warm – so much that he could not stay annoyed, especially not at her. _That damn Luke picked a nice girl_.

His stomach betrayed him before he could even speak for himself, and growled loudly. Hannah beamed, dimples forming on her cheeks. "Looks like it sounds great to you. So come eat!"

She ducked back out of the room, humming a tune softly to herself.

Luke rummaged through his drawers, and threw a towel at him finally after a minute. "Hurry up and go clean up. I'm leaving with Hannah after we finish eating, so don't take too long or your food will get cold."

He left the room, shutting the door firmly behind him. Jonathan stood still for a moment, before deciding to strip down to nothing, his body bare as the layers of clothing piled on the ground beneath him. Almost instantly, he felt as though he was much lighter, with a weight taken off his body.

He pushed the bathroom door open, shuffling his feet as he clambered into the bathtub to run a bath. As the water rose to slowly cover every inch of his legs and his torso, he emptied a small handful of soap into the bath, creating little suds across the surface of the tub. A strong, clean scent emanated from the process, and for the first time in an entire day, Jonathan felt like he was clean.

He was like a child all over again, soaking himself in a big tub of bubbles just because he felt like doing so. Yet there was no joy in doing so no longer – as much as he wanted, he could not act like a child in that moment. There was too much weighing him down, and too much on his mind. Most of all, there was a hole in his heart that Evan had so cruelly, yet so unconsciously stabbed.

He shut his eyes and went under, the water rushing quickly above his head and through his hair, catching them in wisps. _One with the water_. _Fluid, always moving_.

It was a long time before he resurfaced and washed up, rinsing little white patches of bubbles off his body and his hair. When he was finally finished with his bath and with brushing up, he walked out into the living and dining area, to find it quiet and empty, with only a note left atop on the counter where a small carton lay, lukewarm.

" _Jonathan, we're off. Luke says he wants you to be up and running like a normal person in two weeks, so please cheer up, okay? Also, I made you a sweater that I left on the couch. I hope you like it and stay warm! – Hannah_ "

Jonathan looked towards the couch, where a small brown paper package lay, loosely tied together by a length of coarse string. Untying it, he released a mass of sky blue onto the couch. The fabric was soft and thick, perfect for the coming weather. He made a mental note to thank Hannah personally when he saw her next for the thought of making him a warm sweater in his favorite color.

He unpackaged the food and began to tuck in, wishing he had re-heated the food before he ate. He began to make a list of things for him to do, things for him to busy himself with so that he would think of what was happening – Evan was going to marry Sarah.

The thought of it sent a pang of hurt throbbing through his chest the more he tried to avoid it. It was a demon that haunted him, diabolically tormenting him. _I'll get over this,_ he promised himself, almost half-meaning his words. _I'll heal_.

An hour later, with the food carton disposed of and the house cleaned, he sat in front of his computer, thinking of what to do for his next video. Countless suggestions had popped up on his comments as well as on his Twitter, but no clear decision could be made.

A Skype notification popped up, interrupting his thoughts.

 _Vanoss: Are you alright?_

He grit his teeth, and typed a quick reply back.

 _H2ODelirious: Yeah. Why?_

 _Vanoss: You guys never called or messaged after you guys left. I thought you guys never landed back home._

 _H2ODelirious: We're fine, just too tired to call._

 _Vanoss: That's good to know. What're you doing now? We're thinking of playing some GMOD._

 _H2ODelirious: About to record some solo footage. Sorry I can't join you guys._

There was a long pause before Evan's next reply.

 _Vanoss: Oh. Well, have fun then. We'll play together some other day._

 _H2ODelirious: You guys have fun too._

He sighed and closed the window, his heart aching. _Think of something else, Jonathan. Play something_!

He could care less what he played. He simply switched on his Xbox and began to mindlessly scroll through the games, not caring what he played. He just needed to look for a way out from the pain and torment that he suffered, the inching ache in his heart that woke all his demons from his past.

* * *

His phone buzzed in the darkness as he lay half-asleep on his bed. _How annoying_. _I'm sleeping, you know_.

His phone buzzed again. Annoyed, he sat up and picked his phone up from his nightstand, accepting the call blindly.

"Hello?" He drawled, his voice heavy with sleep.

"Jonathan?" A small voice came from the other line, high and light. _Liselle._ "Did I wake you?"

"Uh – no," Jonathan replied, straightening up in his bed, his mind suddenly awake. "What's up?"

"Nothing much. I just… wondered if… uh, if you wanted to get dinner maybe tomorrow night? I mean, it's fine if you're busy or if you don't want to –"

"Why not?" Jonathan answered. "I'm free, and I haven't caught up with you in some time."

"Uh, okay. Sure. See you tomorrow night?"

"Yeah. Seeya. I'll pick you up at your place."

The line went silent as they hung up. Jonathan lay back in his bed, sighing deeply. Just as he was spending all that time aching over Evan, he barely knew how he felt about Liselle anymore. She had barely appeared in his thoughts or his dreams, and he did not particularly desire to see her as he had before. Yet – she felt like a breath of fresh air in his moment of torment, something to look forward to in his time of sorrow. It was almost like an old routine – confronting his misery with her.

Time almost flew as he looked forward to their little date, a repetition of the countless 'first dates' after every break-up they had. He had always left the questions until the very last moment, just like that very same day, as he sat in his car outside her apartment, waiting for her to show up, before he thought to himself – _what the hell am I doing_?

The same thing happened that night, as snow fell lightly across the city, painting the ground with a thin coat of soft white. The sky was dull and cloudy, without any stars visible in the darkness. _How unromantic_ , he thought to himself.

And just like the countless times before, she would appear, more dazzling than ever, and hop into his car joyfully, disrupting all doubts he had mere moments before. Her green eyes sparkled in anticipation, her lips were redder than usual against her skin. Her cheeks were tinged with a soft blush – from the cold, no doubt – and her hair seemed a darker shade of auburn.

"You're looking good today," Jonathan complimented politely as he revved the engine, driving off slowly.

"Thank you," Liselle replied, equally politely.

\- _That's new_ , Jonathan thought. _This awkwardness is new_.

"Uh – I'm actually thinking… shall we do a picnic in the snow tonight?" Jonathan asked. "I mean – the snow's not too heavy, and it seems like a nice night to have an evening picnic."

He watched as surprise blossomed over her features. "That sounds… interesting. You never liked the cold very much."

Jonathan cocked his head. "It isn't _that_ cold tonight."

"I mean – usually at this temperature you'd be whining and begging for us to stay home and have a romantic dinner that you've prepared all by yourself."

"Oh. Right. I kind of got used to eating out while I was in California. I probably need to get back into the habit of cooking."

Her eyes widened further. "You were in California?"

"Yeah… for a couple of weeks. With Luke. Mainly as a holiday and to visit some friends. What do you want to have?" Jonathan asked as he pulled over just outside of a restaurant.

"Uhm," she pondered for a while, looking at a signboard. "A burger would be nice."

He exited the car to make the order, and returned with packages of food in his arms soon after. He started the engine again, and began to drive towards a nearby park. The snow had by then stopped falling, leaving in its wake a small lake of white.

The drive to the park was relatively short. They pulled over once more, the two exiting the car together with their dinner and settled after a moment of looking around on a bench close by the car. They began to unwrap their burgers, and tucked in heartily, a silence falling upon them both once more.

Liselle broke the silence first. "So, uh… how was it like in California?"

"Sunny, as always."

"I meant – like… did you enjoy yourself?"

"Sure."

A small pause, before Liselle started again.

"Were there any… pretty girls?"

"A few, I guess. I didn't really look."

"Oh," Liselle gasped softly. "Why not? People go to California for the beaches and the beautiful people."

"I don't know. It was Luke's idea. Maybe he thought it'd be great to hang out with our friends there for once."

Liselle stared at him, her eyes reflecting a deep thoughtfulness. It was as though she was trying to study him, as though he was someone entirely new. Jonathan tilted his head curiously, and she blinked.

"Oh! Sorry." She whispered. "It's just… you've become so unpredictable ever since the last time I saw you. You've changed so much since then, while I'm sitting here with my life a mess –"

"Liselle," Jonathan interrupted, barely thinking as his intuition egged him on. "I know I've asked this so many times, but I need to know right now."

And he repeated his age-old question to her, the very same question that broke them apart each and every time.

"Do you still love me?"

Her eyes widened for a short moment, before she closed them slowly, as she repeated the very same words that she had answered him with time and again.

"I don't know."

This time, however, the exchange became more. There was something else that Jonathan had to say, there was much less pain, much less pining in those words. Most of all, there was finality – a closure to the very same exchange that had repeated itself so many times.

"Because… I don't know, either," Jonathan murmured.

A silence grew between them both as they looked into each other's eyes, both sharing the same bittersweet feeling that had boiled over from their words.

"You've really changed, Jonathan."

"I… I have."

"Oh, god," Liselle moaned softly. "I don't even know why I decided to call you last night. It's just – my life is a mess. It's always been, and I've always went to you whenever I needed someone to anchor me down. You've been so perfect for that – so perfect at hoisting me back every single time I'm about to drift away. And I feel like a huge bitch every time after that, because I don't know if I truly wanted you back or if I was doing it because –"

"Ssh," Jonathan shushed, as she grew increasingly agitated in her speech. "I know. I figured it out myself. I figured we wouldn't work, and I had to let you go. But you know… it's nice being loved. Or rather, it's nice feeling like you're being loved, even when you're not. And I basked in that, clinging on to a feeling that never existed. I tied you down, Liselle. I should be sorry."

"We're both sorry." Liselle nodded slowly. "And now… this means… we don't ever have a chance again."

"Honestly, I came out here not expecting another chance."

"Jonathan?" Liselle called out softly. "You've been… such a great boyfriend. And I would've really loved to spend the rest of my life with you, but… I think we've smothered whatever love we had out of each other. All that on and off bullshit… we were like a train-wreck bound to happen."

"We were a mess." Jonathan agreed, and bit into his burger once again, bursting into a set of heartfelt giggles almost instantly.

"What?" Liselle eyed him, amused.

"It's gone cold!" He laughed, wiping his eyes.

"It's because of your stupid idea to eat out in the snow!" Liselle mock-punched him in the shoulder as she joined in his laughter. The tension lifted, and something broke between the both of them – a small weight lifted from his shoulders.

After a final forced bite of their food and a clear consensus to return home was made, Jonathan glanced at Liselle thoughtfully. "Liselle?"

"Hm?"

He took her into a tight embrace, devoid of passion, yet full of a friendly warmth.

"Thank you. For this. For helping me move on."

"Thank you, too, for the closure." She gently tore away, and looked him straight in the eye, green piercing blue. "One more thing, though."

Jonathan raised an eyebrow.

"Do me a favor, as a friend. Do something bold. Do something that scares you to get something that you really, really want. I owe you this, a lot. You've spent so much time over the past year trying to keep our relationship going, it's almost as if you've lost a good amount of that craziness that you used to have. So go out there and scare yourself. Be yourself again – because now there's absolutely nothing, not even me, holding you back."

* * *

He was in bed again, surrounded by the warmth of his blankets as he stared at his ceiling in the darkness. Liselle's words echoed in his mind endlessly. _Do something bold. Do something that scares you to get something that you really, really want_.

 _Liselle, Liselle, Liselle. It's easier said than done. What I want isn't mine. What I want is someone else's, what I want is -_

Something in him suddenly twitched to life as he ran through the countless memories of the past few weeks, and his body stiffened. _Oh god, not now. This timing is too perfect._

The memories of Evan in every situation swirled in his mind, sending thrills through his body as a small, deviant part of his mind deviously lingered on the more sensual details of their time together – Evan's body against his on the nights that they ended up sleeping together, Evan's muscles against his skin as they came into contact with each other in the pool, Evan's nose pressed gently against his neck, nuzzling away…

Another twitch ran through his body as it began to warm up beneath the blankets. He was beginning to break out into a sweat both from the steaming heat underneath the fabric as well as from the effort to not succumb to his deadliest longings. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his hands tied down at his sides, and insanely difficult to stop his deprived body from responding to his treacherous thoughts. His heart was beating faster and faster, anticipation and adrenaline shooting through his appendages.

Jonathan fought the itch painfully, gripping his sheets tightly for support. It had been way too long, far too long since he had even experienced the slightest taste of satisfaction. Months since he had touched someone in an intimate manner. His body desired an outlet for release – yet his mind protested furiously at the way the release was begging to be channeled. _I can't. I can't. I can't. Evan is Sarah's. I've got to move on from him_.

The small, diabolical part of his mind decided to dangle a carrot in front of him, putting food in front of his hungry body. An odd distortion of a memory appeared – his memory of his first kiss with Nick. What changed, however, was that Evan was in Nick's place. Evan's lips were on his, wet and hot. Evan's hands ran up under his shirt, his long, sturdy fingers against the sensitive skin on his back, stroking tiny patterns into it. He hissed, and a small flick of the tongue threatened to push him straight over the edge and break his willpower.

His legs grew apart, his heels digging into the bed as he writhed painfully about, yearning for a touch. His hips rose slightly, gently pushing against the mound of blankets that covered his body, sending sharp, yet small tingles of electricity rolling through his body. A frown began to form upon his face, and his breathing became labored from need.

"Hnngh…"

A soft, desperate whine escaped his lips as he began to chew on his lower lip, sending blood shooting throughout the skin. Through the haze in his mind, it began to dawn upon him that he was fighting a losing battle, that at any point of time, his willpower would shatter, and his hands would wander towards the darkness –

His phone buzzed noisily on his nightstand, the rattling breaking through the haze in his mind. His body stilled in alarm, and he collapsed back into bed, panting slightly as he tried to re-adjust himself and steady his heart.

He unlocked his phone, answering the call as his breath came in short, uneven sets.

"Hey." Evan's voice rang out from the other end. _The timing couldn't be more perfect_.

"Hey," Jonathan responded, still slightly short of breath.

"You sound like you just came back from a run. That or you just did something I don't want to know about." Evan teased.

"Shut up."

"Who's the lucky guy?" He joked, and upon hearing a low growl from Jonathan, he responded, "Okay, I'm kidding!"

Jonathan sighed, his mind still recalling the events of mere moments ago, and he felt a throbbing feeling about his body.

"Uh, look," Evan began again. "I need to know for sure – are you okay, dude? We haven't played together in ages, and you apparently you haven't spoken to the rest of the guys as well."

"I had to catch up with my Let's Plays. Nothing much. I'm fine."

"And you sound all weird in your Let's Plays. Like you're trying really hard to keep up."

"Oh, you actually watch them? That's a surprise." Jonathan ribbed.

"Pfft. Maybe. Look, you've got to tell us if you're not okay, alright? We're your friends. We'll help you in any way we can."

"Hmm. I don't think you can. Most of you guys don't even know how I look like. Besides, I can fix my own problems, if I even had any."

"If you say so. At least answer your messages, okay? This way, we know you're fine. Anyway, before you pack your schedule with your Let's Play shit, I'm booking the entire of your next week before Christmas, okay? We've _got_ to record some Christmas stuff together, the whole crew. So don't say you're busy."

"Alright. I'm busy."

"Damn it, Jonathan," Evan growled playfully. "Busy with _our_ stuff. Okay?"

"Oh-kaaaaay."

"One more thing. Uhm…I know it's been a running thing in your videos, but what do you really think about teddy bears?"

Jonathan raised an eyebrow at nothing in the darkness. "They're adorable. And soft." _And I used to have gazillions of them on my bed that I cuddled to sleep. Not to mention that I'm wearing teddy bear boxer briefs right now and I have a pair of teddy bear sweatpants in the wardrobe._

"Hmm. Alright. Just asking." Evan dismissed the topic brusquely. "I'll – uh – let you get back to what you were doing. Remember about next week, okay?"

"Sure."

The line went dead, and Jonathan lay his phone back on the nightstand. _How timely_. _At least it saved my life._

Even then, his body still stirred under the control of his mind. If he wasn't careful, he would simply break and his desires would overpower him. He would've been comfortable with it if it was about anybody else – even if it was a faceless man that he barely knew. He would have gladly enjoyed the experience, and allowed his body to lose control, to writhe and tremble pleasurably as he sent himself to the gates of heaven and back with the thoughts of hot skin against his, with lips kissing and teeth gently nibbling away at all the sensitive little areas that he had on his body. He would have allowed himself to be happy, and he would have allowed himself to lose control, scream inexplicable things as he went into a state of delirium from the joy his body felt.

Except for the fact that the man on his mind was Evan. The man that he was trying to move on from, the man he was trying to forget that he ever had feelings for. The man he so desperately tried to retain a friendship with.

The unattainable man he never expected to fall in love with.

* * *

 _I'm back! I've finally cleared up some things and I'm slowly pulling myself back into the writing process. I'm so sorry if this chapter is far shorter than the previous ones - a nice amount of it was written while I was busy. I do promise that the next chapter would be much longer, since I've planned out quite a bit for the next chapter. The next chapter is also going to be quite intense, but I'm not going to give away much. Either way, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter (as well as me teasing a bit of Jonathan sexiness. I'm sorry! D:)._

 _\- del-min_


	10. Chapter 10 - Christmas

"Santa baby, please don't let Luke get cooties from me," Jonathan sang, giggling as he did. He gingerly flipped the salmon fillet in the pan, revealing a crispy, golden-brown skin as the bright pink flesh began to sizzle on the hot metallic surface.

"God damn, you're in a good mood tonight." Luke noted as he watched. "Also why the goddamn hell would I get cooties from you anyway? We're just havin' dinner."

"It's Christmas Eve, why won't I be in a good mood? Besides, I get to cook good food again. I missed this."

"I'm not complainin'. It's just that you looked pretty hopeless back there."

"You said two weeks. I sorted some things out and I don't intend to be gloomy for Christmas, anyway. Especially not around Gina. So relax, I'm fine."

Luke rolled his eyes. "And I thought some behemoth consumed you. So it's just a child."

"You've got a soft spot for little Alice as well," Jonathan teased.

"Except I don't coddle her and I don't make one-eighties for her."

"Sheesh, kids like Christmas. Kids like holidays in general. Don't be such a grouchy asshole when you see her tomorrow." Jonathan warned as he settled a plate of grilled salmon with mashed potatoes in front of him.

"Hmph," Luke grumbled, and sniffed at the plate. "That looks and smells fuckin' great."

"You bet it does. I cooked it with loooooove." Jonathan drawled playfully, and plated up his portion as well, and settled his portion as well as himself opposite Luke on the dining table.

"Yeah, you're bordering on bein' fucking weird now," Luke smirked as he tucked into the fish hungrily.

"Pfft, you won't say the same thing once you get your gift tomorrow," Jonathan replied between chews.

He watched as Luke perked up, his ears twitching slightly. He looked like a child eager for his Christmas present, with an excited yearning expressed through his dark eyes. "You didn't get me something as awesome as last year, did you?"

"Maybe. I think it's worth every cent." Jonathan winked, and took another bite of his food quickly.

"No way," Luke moaned. "Nothing can top last year. Nothing can top a fuckin' helicopter drone with a camera. Not unless you bought me a car with some insane horsepower or some shit."

Jonathan stuck out his tongue playfully at him and watched the man go practically insane at the anticipation. _No way in hell I'm going to tell you what I got you this year_ , he thought, thinking about the large box hidden safely underneath his bed, all wrapped and secured with a ribbon.

"At least tell me how much you spent."

"Roughly the same as last year. I think."

"God damn. You're always too fucking generous with your gifts. And your cooking is too fucking good. Will you marry me?" Luke teased, and Jonathan giggled.

"I had to cook you dinner, so this doesn't count, you know. You need to take me out to dinner, then maybe to bed. And then we'll talk."

"We'll only talk after we bang? Damn, no wonder it took you so long to get in bed with someone."

"Fuck you."

"That's what I like to hear," Luke said, unable to stop himself from laughing any longer.

"Anyway, you better not run off before I get to your mom and dad's place. I've got stuff for your mom and dad too."

"God damn it Jonathan. You're being too beautiful right now." Luke nodded at him appreciatively.

"Hey, at least I'm beautiful. I'm always beautiful." Jonathan acknowledged, and then recklessly and messily spooned an oversized spoonful of mash into his mouth, creating an adorable mock-up of a milk moustache. He looked absolutely ridiculous, and the two men had to laugh, their mirth resonating throughout the room. Jonathan was clutching his stomach, tears gathering in his eyes as he cackled until no sound except breathy wheezes could possibly come out of his throat.

"How are you even a grown-ass man," Luke chortled, "I don't know. I just saw a grown man play with his food, and I think my life is complete."

Once the plates were cleared through the laughter and jokes, and the dishes washed and dried clean, Luke announced his intention to make himself scarce.

Jonathan chuckled. "Got something planned with Hannah? Is that why you can't record tonight as well?"

Luke rolled his eyes at him. "Yeah, we've planned last-minute Christmas shopping."

"And it's going to take the whole night? Aww, and I thought grumpy ol' Luke would finally see some action after being away from Hannah for so long."

"Says the guy who probably has a 30-day internet history list longer than the number of videos on his YouTube channel."

Jonathan flushed, and quickly ushered Luke out. "Okay, I get it, I get it, go do your Christmas shopping and then Hannah, okay? Bye!"

Luke flipped him the bird as he walked towards his car, covered in a thin layer of snow, and drove off into the darkness. Jonathan shut the door and leaned against the thick mahogany, sighing to himself. He was certainly in a better mood than before, almost feeling as though he could let go of Evan – except a part of him clung on tighter than ever, thirsty for affection and intimacy. Still, it was a miniscule enough part of him for him to be able to mask his desires. He would find himself panting and sweating in the middle of the night, his body stirring treacherously, eyes wide open after a dream too good to be true. He would then feel the urge again to touch, to feel, to satisfy the craving that the dreams of Evan had opened up, only to stop himself short, leaving himself with a dull swelling pain. He wondered how long more he could stand such torture, and how long more before Evan would stop appearing in his dreams, caressing his body with his lips as he kissed down his chest, tongue gently flicking against his skin towards his abdomen, sending shivers throughout the entirety of his body and his back arching towards the man for more attention.

 _Stop_! He shook his head, refusing his body to react to the mere memory of it. _It's about time to get to work, and you're here fantasizing._

He dragged his body into his office and booted the system. The crew was already waiting for him, online and gathered in a call. He entered the call, putting his headset on and adjusting his microphone.

"No, I'm going to be Santa this time around! Delirious already got to be Santa last year, so he's out!" Nogla's deep voice boomed through the headset.

"Hey, you don't get to decide who gets to be Santa yet, not everybody's here!" Lui asserted.

"Nogla can be Santa," Jonathan mumbled softly. "I mean – I was Santa the last time around, so he should get the chance this time."

"See, even Delirious agrees. Thanks buddy." Nogla said triumphantly. "Now can we get started? Everyone's here. Delirious, ya connected yet?"

"I'm already in the game." Jonathan replied as he watched the man in a sky blue hoodie and a hockey mask run about through a snowy street. "I'm going to go get all pimped out in the Christmas gear first, though."

"I'm coming too, my current outfit looks like absolute rubbish," Brock called after him, and a small white blip appeared to follow after Jonathan on the map.

"Hurry up, ya focks, Lui's killing everybody with fucking snowballs and shit!" Nogla yelled.

"DIE!" Evan boomed suddenly, and a notification popped up on the side of Jonathan's screen: Vanoss pulverized Lui Calibre.

Laughter erupted amongst those on the scene. "Seriously, Evan?" Lui challenged. "An RPG on Christmas? All I did was to chuck snowballs!"

"Yeah, you were throwing _killer_ snowballs!" Tyler answered.

"You guys are already having fun without us?" Brock groaned out loud, walking from one end of the store to the other, as a white scarf appeared around the neck of his character. "Delirious hasn't even figured out what he wants to wear yet."

"Well then hurry up bitches because shit's going down fast!" Tyler yelled, and another notification popped up on the side: I_AM_WILDCAT killed Vanoss. Loud whooping and laughing followed, as Evan choked out an incoherent response to the event.

"Wait up, okay? I've – I've got to find a matching outfit and I have to work with only a few colors."

Loud guffawing echoed through Jonathan's headset. "Delirious sounds like a high school girl on her first date!" Tyler laughed. " _I have to work with only a few colors_ – well just dress up as a fuckin' Santa's elf, god damn!"

"Hey, I want to look good this Christmas, okay?" Jonathan retorted, his cheeks reddening a little in reality.

"Carlos isn't here today, Delirious, you're not dressing up for a date at Cockatoo's with him," Lui deadpanned.

"Naw, it's okay, I'll take him on a date." Brock giggled softly, and his character - now decked out in a warm red coat and dark green skinny jeans – sidled over to Jonathan's character as he tried to choose between a red shirt and a blue-and-white jumper. "Take your time and dress nicely, baby. We're going on a date on this beautiful night together."

"I thought he was Evan's date," Nogla chirped. "Don't go stealin' his boy!"

"First come, first serve," Brock answered. Jonathan stayed silent, settling for the blue-and-white jumper with red trimmings and a pair of red and white leggings. "Wow, Delirious. You actually look kind of cute. Like you're ready for eggnog beside a warm fireplace and bedtime."

"Yep, yep, yep… it's cold and it's snowy and I need those, Moo… I just want those."

"Geez, get a room, you two," Tyler quipped. "Hurry up if you're done, we've got to get this event started."

"Alright," Brock faked a sigh, and walked out of the clothing store. Jonathan followed closely behind, and the two got into the same car, side by side. They drove in relative silence, listening to the chaotic events occurring between the rest of the crew as they laughed loudly, yelled at each other and expressed excitement over various little things. Finally, they joined up with their friends, all of them dressed in Christmas attire as well, with Nogla in particular in a Santa suit. The only person missing was Lui, who was nowhere to be found even on the map.

"Where's Lui? Weren't we going to start the event?" Brock queried.

"I haven't seen him since the last time he died, actually," Evan answered, and casually threw a snowball at Brock. A soft, diabolical childlike laugh resounded from another end of the call.

"Oh boy," Nogla groaned, as a vehicle began to approach the group at high speed. "We're going to get wrecked."

And they all did. Lui's car came flying towards the group at high speed, flattening a nice portion of them underneath its weight – and Jonathan was no exception. His character lay spread-eagle on the ground alongside Evan, Tyler and Nogla's bodies, pools of blood gathering on the snowy ground beneath them. Unable to contain himself, Jonathan snickered, before edging himself into a full-blown laughing fit, his sides tickling and his diaphragm quivering as he laughed heartily from the depths of his chest. He could barely see properly or hear properly when the rest joined in, their voices mixing with his.

"Oh, god…" Jonathan breathed, his voice trembling from laughing too hard. "Lui, you bitch, you killed us all!"

"As always, only Brock survives," Nogla noted. "Is he like Jesus or something?"

"I'm invulnerable," Brock answered. "The power of godly hotness protects me. Also I think it's because Delirious accidentally nudged me out of the way when he was trying to run away."

"I bet Carlos is really jealous now that Delirious took the blow for Moo," Nogla teased. "They truly love each other!"

"Yeah, yeah…" Evan piped up, a small, almost miniscule, yet detectable hint of annoyance embedded in his voice. "Can we get on with the event now?"

" _Okay_ , Evan, _god_ … what the hell got up your ass?" Tyler responded.

"Nothing at all – we need to finish recording and editing this before tomorrow, remember? I'm not going to stay up the whole night and be dead tired for the rest of Christmas."

"Fine, let's just start," Lui said, slightly defeated. As the crew joined in on the event lobby, he explained the event rules to them. There would be two teams – a one-man 'Santa' team, whilst the rest would be in the other team attempting to ruin Christmas. What the larger team had in numbers, the 'Santa' team had in firepower. The first round then began, with Nogla being singled out in the 'Santa' team.

"What are the odds? I'm Santa this Christmas and I get to be Santa." Nogla tittered. "Don't ya fockers destroy the presents for the little kids!"

"There are five of us, I think we can ruin Christmas," Evan replied deviously.

"Not when Santa's hunting you down! GET OFF MY LAWN!" Nogla yelled, obliterating Tyler in one shot.

"OH JESUS CHRIST!" Tyler roared as his character fell. "Nogla's like an angry grandpa waving at kids with his cane!"

"Moo? Vanoss?" Jonathan called out as his character wandered about, lost, without anyone else in sight. "Where are you guys? I haven't even found any presents yet."

"It's okay, babe, I see you," Brock assured. "Follow me."

Jonathan followed after Brock's character as he led him into a different area on the map, a few bright red presents in sight. "Presents!" Jonathan called out excitedly, approaching the decorated boxes.

"Alright, come on, let's crack open these," Brock instructed, his character whipping out a small, feeble-looking stick. Jonathan did so as well, and the two started to furiously attack at the sturdy gift until it began to crack and finally crumble underneath the avalanche of assault.

Jonathan laughed victoriously. "We did it! One present destroyed!"

"And two fockers going to be destroyed!" Nogla declared, and opened fire on the two, the bullets striking Brock's character furiously until his character fell onto the ground, covered in crimson. Jonathan yelled over his headset, fear mixing with amusement, and commanded his character to take off, dodging the oncoming bullets from the crazed killer Santa that Nogla had conjured up and hiding behind various large boxes.

"Oh god, I'm so scared," Jonathan cried out. "Vanoss, where the hell are you?"

"I'm nowhere," Evan replied rather bitterly. "Don't come to me."

"God, Vanoss, where are you?" Jonathan pleaded softly as he set out on a search for the man in the owl mask. "Nogla's after me and I need you!"

"No, you don't need me," Evan grumbled. "You'll do _just fine_."

"No, I –AHHHHHH!" Jonathan screamed as he was soon shot down, his screen turning black and white.

On any other day, Jonathan would have laughed it off. On any other day, Jonathan would have let it all go all too easily and joined in on the fun that his friends had caught themselves in. Yet, in that one moment, perhaps it was the frustration, or perhaps he was simply tired – but Evan's bitterness did not go unnoticed, and seeped over into Jonathan's system, translating into an indescribable annoyance that he could not express openly. The good mood that he had set himself in mere hours earlier vanished into nothingness, dissolving into a black hole that he had only began to cover up. He went silent, no longer laughing or screaming, and simply felt the agitation hop about in his chest, burning away furiously like a wild fire. _What the hell is wrong with him_?!

"Heh heh heh… Evan..." Nogla called out playfully. "You're the only one left!"

"God damn, Nogla sounds like a creepy pedophile Santa," Lui commented.

"Hey, I'm doing this for the little children, okay," Nogla asserted jokingly. Abruptly, Tyler burst out laughing, causing Nogla to holler – "OH GOD, COME BACK YOU JUKING BASTARD!"

Shots resounded, and the outcome of the match was quickly decided, with Nogla celebrating his victory with a bout of deep, throaty laughter that melded and mixed with the voices of his friends. Jonathan, however, stayed relatively silent.

He spoke very little across the next few rounds, only communicating whenever he was prompted to speak. His silence was picked up on quickly by Brock, as Brock began to set up situations for Jonathan to react to. He stuck close by Jonathan, pairing up with him for the event from there until it ended.

"Well… that was underwhelming," Brock commented. "I prefer snowball fights."

"Me too. Here's your present this Christmas!" Lui chucked a snowball at Brock, causing his character to falter and tumble.

"Oh, god…" Tyler groaned as a man began running towards the group with a knife in his hand. "Delirious, seriously? Another mugger?"

"What mugger? I didn't send no – AGH!"

His character tumbled to the ground, successfully robbed of all his cash on hand, and the mugger took off with his vehicle. At that point, Jonathan mentally gave up trying to keep up.

"Really?! You know what, I'm done. I'm sorry guys, I'm really tired and I've got a long day ahead tomorrow. Have fun."

He pulled his headset off and left the game, and he trudged wearily into his bedroom, collapsing on his bed. Annoyance was something that rarely ever came to him, and when it did overcome him, the negativity sucked all the energy out of him. He hated feeling that way. He hated blowing his top over matters as trivial as being pranked in game, yet he barely could control himself towards the end. It was such an irrational feeling. He sighed, hating himself quietly. He could already imagine what the guys were saying. Tyler would be dumbfounded, yelling out his confusion at the top of his voice. Nogla would poke around, asking about the events that had transpired, and try to find the cause of the situation. Lui would reason with the others about what had happened and Brock would quickly try to control the damage that was left in his wake. Evan would fall quiet, not knowing what to do anymore, especially after all that had happened.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He dug it out lazily and glanced at the screen – Brock was calling him. Another sigh, and he answered the call.

"Hey, Delirious?" Brock called out gently. "That was really unlike you, man. You never just go quiet and then lose your cool just like that. What's wrong?"

"I don't know. I might just be really tired."

"Yeah, but even when you're tired you've always pulled through. Maybe just be a little incoherent and lacking focus, but you've never just blew your top the way you did earlier. And if there's anything I know about you, you're truly upset when you go quiet like you did mid-game. Could you tell me what's wrong?"

"It's nothing, really," Jonathan murmured. "I mean – it's nothing big. I'm just tired and I've spent the good part of two weeks settling things back to normal and figuring things out for myself. It hasn't been a joyride."

"But you don't usually take it out on anyone, especially if it's just something personal. Is something wrong? Amongst us, that is."

"Believe me, Moo, it's nothing. I'm being stupid. I don't even know why I blew up. I just didn't feel like playing anymore all of a sudden. It's been that way these few days, me going back and forth between moods like that. I was really happy to play earlier, I really was."

"Delirious," Brock cooed softly, his voice tender and soothing. "You've got to tell us if something is wrong, okay? Look – it's alright if you don't want to tell me –"

"- Or the rest of the guys on the call with you right now." Jonathan added.

Brock chuckled. "Smart. It's alright if you don't want to tell me or the rest right now about what's going on in your life or what's troubling you these days, but if you're upset… don't keep it in or try to pretend like you're really happy, okay? Feigning happiness makes it break apart twice as fast."

"Geez, Moo…I… I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. Look, we care about you, okay? And just now – we were all dead worried about you. Even though Tyler doesn't show it and tends to yell at you a lot, he does, too."

"I know he does. I know he's a great friend."

"And you are our friend, our great friend. I know you haven't been… perfectly alright since you came back from California. Luke told us. But – well – everything's going to be fine, okay? It'll all work out, somehow. And no matter what happens, we'll be here for you, okay?"

 _Oh, god_. Hearing the words come from Brock in his soothing, calming voice made his heart sting. The way Brock said it all to him tugged at his heart, causing tears to cloud his vision and weigh heavily on his eyelids, a downpour waiting to happen.

"Oh, Moo…" Jonathan whimpered. "Thank you so much."

"There's no need to thank us. We're your friends, alright? Now are you going to come back to us and finish up the recording or do you want to sleep it off? Evan's getting even grumpier now that you're not around. I think he's upset that he doesn't get to pick on you. I'm pretty sure he also got jealous because we were sticking together so much."

A muffled "Shut up!" came from Brock's end of the phone, followed by a stream of incomprehensible protests intertwined with loud laughter, and Jonathan had to giggle. _I think I can at least pretend to be happy a little longer tonight._ Whatever would haunt him that night, whatever dark thoughts of Evan and whatever bitterness he had, he would hide it, and shove it into a corner of his mind for a little longer. All that mattered in the moment was the good times he would have with his friends – the joy of Christmas.

"Wait for me!" He called out to Brock.

* * *

Jonathan trudged through a light blanket of bright white snow, locking his car door with a click of a button. The path up towards the large house was littered with lights of various colors, welcoming him as he walked up the steps and onto the patio to knock on the door. The door quickly opened, and he was greeted by a familiar face – a short woman with greying hair.

"Oh, Jonathan!" She greeted him, and took him into a warm embrace. "Oh, honey, Jonathan's here!"

A similarly greying man emerged from a room behind her, a boyish, attractive smile spreading across his face. _No doubt where Luke came from, there_.

"Jonathan!" He boomed cheerily. "It's been so long. How've you been? Oh, you've definitely grown a little skinnier than you used to be. I never remembered you being so bony. And you look like you haven't slept in days!"

"Damn it, Pa, you sound like Ma." Luke appeared from behind the couple, completing the picture of uncanny resemblances. "He's fine, I swear. He was singing and dancing around last night. "

"He's right, Mr. Patterson," Jon smiled weakly. "It's just that me and my friends had to make a lot of videos these few days. It's Christmas, after all. Nothing much to worry about."

Luke's father laughed, shaking his head. "You kids and your antics. You're not going to stay long, are you? The drive to your parent's place isn't nice and short if I remember right."

"No, it isn't. I'm just here to hand over some presents, and I'll get going." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small flat blue box tied together with a silver ribbon and offered it to the elderly couple.

"This is for the both of you. But – uh – you might want to open it in private." Jonathan smiled warmly. "It's for the sake of my sanity, really, nothing on the gift. I really hope you two like it."

He watched as the two faces lit up before his own eyes. The woman's eyes glimmered, a soft shimmer rolling across her dark brown eyes, and the man smiled wider than ever, wrinkles forming across his face. Even as he stood in the cold winter, an odd, comforting warmth grew as he watch the older couple glower appreciatively at him.

"Oh, Jonathan, my dear…" Mrs. Patterson murmured. "You didn't need to, you've always been so kind -"

"It's okay, Mrs Patterson, it really is. It's just a small gift. It's nothing as compared to what you two and Luke have been doing for me all these years. You've _all_ been so kind."

The woman nudged her husband gently, whispering, "Give him his gift, dear."

A flurry of colors appeared before Jonathan as Mr Patterson scurried around behind his wife and son in the house, before re-appearing with a bright red box bound with a navy ribbon. "Merry Christmas, son," he beamed as he handed the box over to Jonathan, and he thanked the couple joyfully.

"Okay, enough with this – WHERE'S MY GOD-DAMNED GIFT, JONATHAN?!" Luke yelled impatiently, an eager fire eating away at his soul visible through his dark eyes. The elderly lady slapped his elbow in annoyance.

Jonathan giggled softly. "In my car. You'll love it. Come on," he gestured as Luke followed behind. As they stopped by his vehicle, Jonathan made sure to open the trunk as slowly as he could, dragging out the moment for as long as possible as he took pleasure in watching the man squirm in impatience. Finally, he retrieved the large box he had kept safely hidden from Luke all along, and placed it in the man's arms.

He watched as Luke struggled with the angel and the demon sitting on his shoulders, one spurring him to rip the box open like a child and see what it contained, and the other urging him to be patient and save all the anticipation and excitement for later like a grown man should. When he finally settled down, Jonathan smirked, a laugh turning into a snort as he barely held it back.

"The fuck are you laughin' about?"

"The angel won," Jonathan giggled, and Luke shook his head at the nonsensical response he got.

"Thanks for the gift, anyway."

"No problem. Share it with Hannah, too. It's for you both. And thank her for the sweater for me, okay?"

Luke nodded. "Are you going off already? I haven't given you your gift, yet."

"Yeah. My parents are probably already waiting for me. You can just drop your gift off at my house on your way home later." He closed the car trunk and maneuvered around to the front of the car, and waved at the elderly couple in the distance, and they, understanding, waved back before retreating into back into the house, the door slightly ajar.

"Hey," Luke stopped him, arm firmly grasping his shoulder just as he prepared to re-enter the vehicle. "Be careful, okay? Keep your phone on and with you at any point of time, alright?"

Jonathan frowned. Luke sounded awfully serious. "Why? What's going on?"

"Damn it, are you livin' under a goddamn rock?" Luke growled. "There's been reports of serious gang activity all around North Carolina these days. I just want you to stay safe, alright?"

"Gee, Luke. Look, I'll be fine, okay? North Carolina is pretty big. I'm only just one guy on the road out of so many. Besides, I'm just going to my parents' and back. No deviations." He caught Luke's dark glare, and sighed. "If it makes you feel better, I'll call you when I get home, okay?"

"Okay." Luke answered, still sounding slightly distressed. "I'll see you soon."

Jonathan waved, and began his drive off into the bright white. The drive to his parents' place was often unbearably long, and he had long fell into the routine of flipping through radio channels to and listening to whatever was on to kill the time. Once in a while he would catch unfamiliar voices on unfamiliar radio stations playing songs that he never thought he'd end up liking. Other times, like this time, he these unfamiliar voices would play songs that have had all the likability sapped out of them with the sheer number of times that they had been played and milked for listeners.

"And coming up... is a song that has been so well-liked for so long, and I think it speaks the feelings of so many people out there today. You might be spending Christmas alone, but we'll always be here for you. Here's the song, "You're Beautiful" by James Blunt," the voice came through the radio, nasal and half-hearted.

"Jesus, really? This song?" Jonathan murmured to himself. "How nostalgic."

The first notes of the guitar came through. _Ugh_. _Here we go again_. The premature start was all too familiar – " _My life is brilliant_."

He rolled his eyes, almost completely able to repeat every single syllable of the song from memory after countless times of having the song played to him ever since it hit the top of the charts ten years ago – on the radio, in stores, when Nick serenaded him in quiet when they lay alone in the dark, singing it softly to him with his lips to his ear…

" _My life is brilliant, my love is pure / I saw an angel, of that I'm sure_ …"

A soft sigh escaped his lips. He could already hear Nick's voice in his ear, crooning away at the next few lines.

" _She smiled at me on the subway, she was with another man_

 _But I won't lose no sleep on that, 'cause I've got a plan…"_

Ethereal lips against his ear, Nick gently whispered the lyrics, his voice full of adoration and sadness.

" _You're beautiful, you're beautiful, you're beautiful, it's true_ …"

 _I'm not the beautiful one_ , he thought, his own voice in his mind grating against Nick's gentility. _I've met so many more beautiful people. You… Liselle… Evan... Oh, Evan…_

The next few lines came through the radio, murmuring mournfully in a high voice, the very lines he dreaded to hear in that very moment as he drove with his mind lingering on Evan and the very last time he saw him back in California.

" _I saw your face in a crowded place… And I don't know what to do, 'cause I'll never be with you_."

 _Oh, Evan_.

* * *

As he pulled up in another snowy driveway by another house, he was greeted once more by familiar faces. This time, however, his surroundings were not as serene nor as quiet, and this time, his heart was heavy and full. It took him a full moment to regain himself and compose himself, before nailing a wholehearted smile to his face, clouding his thoughts of Evan with the thoughts of his family awaiting him in the house.

"Uncle Jonathan! UNCLE JONATHAN!"

A small bundle of joy came bounding towards him as he stepped up onto the porch with a paper bag, all dressed in red and white, jumping and pouncing onto him excitedly. Her long dark hair was soft and prominent against her pale skin and greyish-blue eyes, and her full red lips were curled into a bright, wide smile.

"Uncle Jonathan!" She chirped once more, hugging his thigh tightly. "Mommy! Grandpa, Grandma! Uncle Jonathan is here!"

Loud shuffling came from within the house as familiar faces began to peek out. An elderly couple resembling him in countless ways smiled as they approached him, and a woman with dark hair and pale skin trailed behind them, a small contented smile upon her face.

"Oh, Jonathan... long time no see," his mother addressed him, pulling him into a tight embrace. "You've lost weight again!"

"Why does everyone else say that? I'm perfectly fine, Ma."

"Look," She pulled out his arm from his sides. "You're so bony now! You used to have more flesh on your bones."

"Give the boy a rest," his father cut in. "Just look at him, he looks like he hasn't slept in days. I won't be surprised if he's been sick again."

"Not you too, Pa."

"You've got to take care of yourself, dear boy," the man murmured in his deep voice as he took Jonathan into a warm hug. "You get sick so often, it's hard not to get people worried."

"It's not that frequent, Dad. I swear. Other than the occasional throat problems, I'm healthy as a horse."

"That's good to hear. Your mom's right, though, you've really lost weight."

"Geez, you two…" Jonathan breathed, half-laughing. "I'll end up gaining it all back today! It smells really good in here, already. Are you guys already roasting the turkey?"

"It's actually nearly done. We're having dinner much earlier so none of you have to go home too late. The gang activity isn't any joke."

"Still, Ma," The dark-haired woman behind them both spoke up. "You've started way too early. Evening's light years away. Besides, there's no reason to cut Gina's Christmas extra short. We all only get Christmas once a year, you know."

"Yeah, Grandma," Gina piped up, her voice high. "I barely ever get to see Uncle Jonathan the rest of the year. I wanna spend more time with him."

She flashed an irresistibly adorable smile at all of the grown-ups in the room, and Jonathan knelt down, lowering his head to her height.

"Gina's a good girl, so I think I wasn't wrong to get you a nice gift for Christmas this year. But you have to promise to be good and listen to your mommy and stay safe tonight, okay? Even if it means seeing Uncle Jonathan for a little bit less today."

Gina nodded understandingly, and Jonathan smiled warmly at the child, before reaching into the paper bag and pulling out a relatively small, elongated box. "Here – promise me you won't spend all your time on it, okay? Your mommy will be angry at me if you don't do well in school, and you won't look pretty anymore if you have to wear glasses."

The girl's eyes widened as she soon realized what lay in the box, and she threw her arms around his neck happily, squealing in delight.

"Oh – THANK YOU UNCLE JONATHAN, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU – I'VE ALWAYS WANTED -!"

"Alright, alright, settle down," Jenn mumbled, hands pulling the two apart. "Really, Jonathan, a handheld game system? I'm going to have such a rough time ripping those out of her hands now."

"It's Christmas, Jenn. It makes Gina happy, so why not?" The elderly lady coaxed. "Come now, Gina, show Grandpa and Grandma your present and let your mommy catch up with Uncle Jonathan, okay?"

The couple walked off up the stairs, each clasping one of Gina's small dainty hands in theirs, leaving Jenn and Jonathan alone with each other. Barely looking at her, Jonathan moved past her into the kitchen, where a strong, nutty scent was emanating from the oven as the turkey roasted in the orange light.

"Gina takes after you so much, it's not even funny anymore," Jenn began as she strolled in after him. "Just a few years ago it was Uncle Jonathan this and Uncle Jonathan that, and now she's beginning to actually starting to be like you when you were younger."

"Really?" Jonathan replied, his eyes fixated on the bird in the oven. "She seems perfectly fine to me."

"Tch. She's all weird now like you were. She's all noisy, energetic and boisterous… and so unafraid to be herself. Seriously, I think she's becoming more and more like you every day. I'm going to end up raising a mini-Jonathan."

"You say it like it's something bad."

"I've had to grow up with you, and now I'm going to have to grow old with another version of you. And it doesn't help that you're one of the craziest, most special people that I know. One of these days I'm going to go insane." She rolled her eyes at him, and continued, "But enough about me, and more about you. You're acting weird. You don't even want to look at me in the eye and if you think that after all these years I can't tell what that means, you're dead wrong. You're hiding something."

Jonathan sighed softly. "It's none of your business."

"Oh yeah?" Jenn challenged bluntly. "You're acting like how you did after Nick dumped you."

Jonathan winced, and Jenn continued, smirking triumphantly. "After all that crying and acting like the world ended, you're now in your 'I'm totally alright' phase. You've lost weight, you've barely slept, and whenever you do, you either have weird dreams of whoever it is or you just have nightmares straight up. Am I right?"

 _Bulls-eye._

"How are you _always_ spot-on?"

"Because I'm your sister. And even more so because I'm a mother. So 'fess up, I wanna hear it. It's another boy, isn't it? Did he dump you?"

"He –" Jonathan began sharply, his voice high and loud. He took a second to reset, lowering his voice to conversational levels. "He didn't. We didn't even get together. He doesn't even know how I feel."

"But you fell for him anyway. And you found out you can't be with him."

"He's getting married, Jenn. He loves her. She's everything he wants and more. I'm nothing more than just a friend to him, a friend that plays games with him and works with him."

"Sheesh, you're such a downer." Jenn walked over to the fridge and rummaged through it, before turning around and chucking a bottle of orange juice at him as though what she had heard was immensely trivial. "So he's engaged. What next? He might get married, get tired of that jazz, and then leave her for you. Or even better, he might just break off the engagement for you. It's not like you'll never get a chance at having him ever again."

"Jenn!" Jonathan scolded in disbelief. "How could you say that? That's his happiness at stake here! I can't break them up –"

"I'm not telling you to break them up. I'm just telling you that it's not the end between you two. God, anything can happen. He might leave her, she might leave him. And then he's all yours. Simple as that. It's not the end of the world, there's absolutely nothing to be sad about."

"You're evil." Jonathan accused. "My dear sister has become an evil bitch."

Jenn waved him off. "Say what you want, bitch, but if there's anything I learnt out of all these years raising Gina on my own, it's that I can't be good or even pretend to be good. If I've gotta be evil to get what I want or need, then I'm going to be evil. He's what you want, and I'm going to bet my life and my daughter's life that he wants you, too."

"He doesn't. I'm sure of it."

"You don't even sound sure. Come on, Jonathan. You have _no_ idea how responsive you are to people. It's Nick and that girl Liselle all over again – you like them, find them hot, they flirt because they like you back, and you practically fall head over heels for them. I'm willing to go out on a limb here and say he's flirted with you at some point, and that he likes you more than just as a friend. Deny that all you want, but it's happened before."

"Even if he _does_ want me, even if he _does_ love me, he still won't break up with her just to be with me. She's perfect for him. She's the perfection that he's looking for, the whole love-of-his-life, wife and children package deal. He'll never break her, let alone break up with her."

"Oh, shut up. Do you think I care? My point is that this is so damned unlike you, Jonathan. You've never given up so easily before. Everything you do, you fight it through the end, no matter how hard it is or how small the window of opportunity is. God, Gina picked that up from you, and now you're losing it." She paused, and smiled wistfully, the corners of her lips curving ever so gently and forming dimples that were ever so familiar to him. "Do you know what she said to me once? She was at the bottom of the class, and she was being picked on by other kids. And one night after I yelled at her for god knows what, she just looked at me and told me I was wrong and she'd make it to the top. She said, "If Uncle Jonathan can make everything bad good, then I can, too." And god, she's getting there. She's been working so hard at it - so at the very least, be a good example for Gina. Do it for her – show her you're not one to give up."

The pair were quiet for a long moment, with Jonathan sipping his orange juice thoughtfully and Jenn watching the Christmas turkey cook away slowly in the oven.

A small little ding sounded and the lights in the oven dimmed, prompting Jonathan and Jenn to spring into action, with him wrapping the oven mitts over his hands and her looking for a large plate to rest the turkey on. As they worked fluidly over the food, Jenn began the conversation again.

"Jonathan?" Jenn mumbled as she began to pick the stuffing out from the turkey. "Look, I hate being so annoying and noisy about all this and saying so much that I probably don't need to. It's something you learn from being all alone – you figure things out for yourself and you fight and reason for yourself. But you're not alone, Jonathan. You have me. You have people like Luke. I mean, shit, he's not the best person to set an example for you, but he's a hell of a reliable person. Thing is, there are so many people who love you for who you are. So talk about it if you have to. Don't wait until everyone's gone before you start talking."

Jonathan hesitated, and finally spoke. "I didn't tell you this earlier, but I think I've mentioned him to you before. It's that guy I messaged years back and eventually became friends with. His name is Evan."

"Do you love him? God, it's obvious, but I need you to be honest with yourself. Do you?"

"I do. So much… so much that it's painful. I can't bear to know that he might be sad or hurt, yet I can't bear to know that I can't be with him. These past few weeks… it hurts so much thinking about him. I'd dream of him so much. Sometimes it's a nice dream, so nice that it sucks when I wake up knowing that it's not real. Other times it's just… sad."

Jenn nodded slowly. "How did it happen? He was just your friend before – how did he become more to you?"

Jonathan stilled his hands. "Last month when I went to L.A. with Luke… we saw each other in person for the first time. God, he was already beautiful before in pictures. In person… he's completely perfect. I can't look at him without thinking about how absolutely perfect he is."

Jenn cupped his hands with her own. "I do hope for your sake and Gina's sake that you get him… eventually. Gina needs another uncle, you know."

Jonathan snorted in mirth. "I used to use the word 'eventually' so much. To think that it's the most painful word I can hear now. There's no closure in it – it's just a waiting game, no yes's or no's. It just leaves you hanging there wondering when it will ever happen, if it's ever going to happen… and you're just hurting knowing that it might not ever happen."

"It will, Jonathan. Trust a woman's instinct – a mom's instinct. Trust me on this one."

"Jenn, Jonathan darling?" Their mother cut in, peeking through the doorway. "I'll handle it from here. Go spend some time with Gina and your father. I don't think games are enough to entertain those two silly ones."

* * *

Hours later, the family sat around the dining table, the air filled with remnants of the scent of a hearty and wonderful Christmas dinner. The adults had pushed their chairs up away from the table, a satisfied sigh escaping their lips as they rubbed their full stomachs, temporarily unable to move after a sumptuous meal. Plates lay empty in front of them, with little scraps of leftovers on the larger plates and bowls. Gina, on the other hand, had completely abandoned her spot at the table, and had sidled up to Jonathan, settling herself on his lap playfully.

"Ow, you've definitely grown bigger, Gina," Jonathan complained, wincing slightly as Gina shifted her weight on his lap. "One day, I probably can't even carry you anymore."

"Then get another uncle or another aunty to help you carry me," Gina pouted. "Even better, get a strong uncle or aunty that has a softer lap."

Jonathan shot a momentary glare at Jenn, before turning back to Gina. "Did your mommy tell you to say this to me?"

"Mommy only said you haven't found 'the right one', but when are you going to find 'the right one'? When am I going to have a little cousin to play with?"

Looks were exchanged throughout the table, and Jenn cleared her throat, looking away from Jonathan and Gina.

"It's alright, Gina dear. I'm sure your uncle will find the right person soon," the deep voice of their father cut in. "Now, do you want some ice cream? Grandma and I made sure to buy some little chocolate ice-cream balls just for you! Come on!"

He stood up, towering over the table, and gestured for Gina to follow him into the kitchen. Reluctantly, Gina slid away from Jonathan and trailed behind the man.

"You overheard,"Jenn accused as soon as Gina was out of earshot.

"I had to check on the turkey," their mother shrugged. "Besides, I deserve to know a little bit of what's going on in both of your lives. There's a boy named Evan?"

Jonathan sighed, exasperated. "It's not going to happen, Ma."

"I'm haven't said anything yet. I'm not pressing for you to get married, although if you do, your father and I will be extremely happy," she replied matter-of-factly. "I'm not even objecting to anything here. We never told you this when you were dating that Nick boy in secret –"

"You _knew about Nick!?_ " Jonathan suppressed a yell.

"I told them. Luke and I thought that it was the best thing to do after you got hurt," Jenn confessed. "What are you going to do, come out to them about your preferences but not tell them the full story behind it? They had to know at some point."

"Don't interrupt, Jenn. We never told you this when you were dating Nick in secret, or when you told us that you – in your own words – _swung both ways_ , but no matter which way you choose to go, we'd still love you, and love who you choose to love. So – oh, for god's sake, Jenn, stop looking at me like that – I don't care what's going on between you two, but if he makes you happy, chase him with all you've got, okay?"

"Ma…Oh gosh," Jonathan choked out, his voice coming out in a soft, pitiful whimper. His chest clenched warmly, filling with a pleasant ache, and he began to tear up slightly. His mother raised herself from her seat and embraced him, gently stroking his hair.

"Now, now, dear. It's Christmas, and you're a big boy now. So don't cry because you've heard something nice." She pulled back, and wiped away a tear as it barely began its journey down his cheeks. "Smile now. Come on."

Jonathan smiled almost too easily through the blurriness of his tears. "Thank you, Ma. I love you. You and Pa have always been so loving… I wouldn't be who I am without you two."

"Geez, this is annoying to watch." Jenn rolled her eyes.

"And you too, Jenn," he reached out to her, inviting her to an embrace that she gladly joined. The sensation of having his family around him holding him tightly was immensely heartwarming, and the heavy burden on his shoulders that had weighed him down ever since he left California seemed to lift itself. It was almost as though Jenn and his parents and Gina were there, sharing his burden, and he was grateful beyond words for that.

"Aw, Grandpa," Gina's voice rang through the air, causing the trio to break apart. "They're having a group hug without us."

"It's alright, it's alright. We don't need to be actually hugged to know that they love us, too. Either way," he peered out of the window, "It's getting dark. You've all got to start heading out, now."

"Well, we'll get going, then." Jenn straightened up and proceeded to retrieve her bag and her coat from the stands. "Come on, Gina. Put your coat on and we'll get going before the baddies catch us."

"Bye, Grandpa, Grandma. Bye, Uncle Jonathan… Come and see me soon, please? I want to play games with you and hear more stories from you."

Jonathan smiled, bending down to give her a small tight hug. "I'll try to come over whenever I can, okay? Be a good girl now and go home safely."

He waved at the two ladies leaving, and with two loud thumps and the sound of an engine starting and car wheels screeching as it drove off, his sister and his niece disappeared into the darkness.

"You should get going, too. Stay safe on the road, okay?"

"I will, Dad." Jonathan gave both his parents a quick hug, and took his coat from the coat rack, wrapping the warm fabric around his body as he stepped out into the cold night. "You two take care, alright? I'll drop by when I have the time."

"We will, we will. Now go on home, dear."

They parted, with the couple retreating back into the house and Jonathan into the warmth of his car, as he began the journey back home, his stomach full and his spirits lifted.

The drive back home was relatively dull. Christmas carols and ballads filled the radio stations, and the road ahead was immensely dark, prompting Jonathan to drive through the area purely by memory alone as the signs proved unhelpful. His memory itself was hazy, and a part of him strongly doubted that he was going the right way.

It was not long before a sign was visible to him, the words on it catching his eyes and sending him into panic mode. The road was already unfamiliar, and his surroundings seemed alien. Run-down, industrial-looking buildings surrounded him as he drove on, completely lost. _Where the hell am I_? _Did I take a wrong turn somewhere_?

He looked around for a sign, confused. He had never wandered into this part of the state before, let alone know the way around. He was barely sure if he was still in North Carolina. _What if I somehow travelled out of the state? How many signs did I miss? How many wrong turns did I take? Where in the world am I_?

He began to slow down to assess the situation and his environment, before pulling over to a stop. There was not a single sign in sight. Everything was quiet, deadly quiet. The air in the car became colder than it was before, and a prickling feeling started to crawl all over his skin. He was lost – and lost in a place where he had a terrible feeling about. The countless industrial buildings and run-down shacks around him were splattered with graffiti – and it became clear that this was a place that he had been warned since he was very young to avoid. This was gang territory, and he had to find a way out as soon as he could. He pulled out his phone, ready to turn on the maps to look for a way out.

His panic rose as he heard faint screeches of car tires in the distance. He silently hoped that it was but another lost traveler and not anyone from a gang. _Or, even better, it might be someone just passing through who has directions. Gosh, Jonathan, stop worrying yourself_.

Ending his worries, however, was easier said than done. As luck would have it, a momentary blinding flash across the side of his face announced the presence of a car. The car passed him relatively quickly, and he was relieved for a split-second, until it began to slow down to a stop a distance ahead of him. _Shit. Please don't come to me, please don't come to me…_

A group of men exited the car, one after another, as the red lights on the rear of the car died. His heart began to race as they walked towards his car. _I need to get out, I need to drive away now_!

His hand shot towards the gear, but as he looked away and back at the men, he realized it was too late. In the few moments that he had looked away, they seemed to have travelled quickly towards him, and were beginning to close in on him. Fear was beginning to take hold of his body, and he froze, not knowing what to do.

Luke's voice echoed in his head. " _Keep your phone on and with you at any point of time, okay?_ "

 _My phone_. He fumbled quickly with his phone, swiping around as he glanced back and forth between the men and the keypad that had appeared on his phone screen. In between glances he caught glimpses of the men – tattoos sprinkled themselves across the mean-looking features on their faces and across their necks. Their expressions spelt a mixture of inebriation and sheer anger and hatred. Most striking of all, however, was the man leading the pack. The face was familiar, stirring up a lagoon of bad memories that Jonathan had kept buried within him. He had hoped to never see the man's face again after he caught a glimpse of a piercing, hate-filled glare that the man gave him as he was led away, restrained, many years ago. _Eric_.

A scream caught itself in Jonathan's throat, suppressed only by his willpower. He quickly dialed a number that he had hoped to never use in his lifetime, a number that he hoped would save his life – that is, if the operator understood the incomprehensible events that was about to follow. As he heard the dial tone, he quickly stuffed his phone into the inner pocket of his coat, his heart palpitating under the countless layers of fabric as the men closed in on him.

SMASH.

A shower of glass rained upon the passenger seat of his car as a wooden bat met its surface. _Oh, god. Save me._

"Well, well, well…" A deep rumble emerged from Eric's chest, his thin, cracked lips barely moving as he spoke. "If it isn't a familiar face. I thought I'd never see this face again when I went in, and I never thought I'd see this face again when I came out. But what do we have here? My perfect Christmas gift, just for me." His features contorted into a deadly grimace. "So how have you been, Johnny?"

"Eric… I just… please, I'm just passing through." Jonathan whispered, his voice shaking.

"Passin' through? Just passin' through?" Eric mocked, the men roaring with laughter. "Johnny boy, if there's one thing you learn, you don't just "pass through" with us. You're my Christmas gift, Johnny. Do you know what's happened to me all these years? You sent me to prison, and Nick left me. He left me to fend for myself, after all I've done for him to protect him! You have no idea how much I want to return the favor, Johnny."

He chuckled darkly to himself, and rounded over to the driver's seat, smashing the window in as well, sending fragments of the glass flying past Jonathan, scratching away at his skin. "You're in for a treat, Johnny. I'm in a _really_ good mood tonight… so why not come out and party, Johnny?"

In a swift motion, he reached in through the broken glass and forcefully unlocked and pulled the door open. Countless hands grabbed Jonathan, forcing him out of the car and onto the cold road as he protested furiously, kicking and struggling as he screamed at the top of his lungs until his voice was hoarse and his throat burned. With each scream, the sadistic smile on Eric's face grew, and finally, he watched the man raise a thick arm and wave it across his face, slapping him hard ruthlessly. All Jonathan felt in the moment was a rough palm to his face, and an immense pain burn across his left cheek.

"You know, I was wonderin' how you got to be the good guy. I was tryin' to protect my brother. I was tryin' to save him and make him see how wrong he was. But I was the big, bad guy, Johnny. Why?"

He felt the arms restraining him loosen slightly as Eric made a swift motion with his body, throwing Jonathan to the freezing ground face-down. A heavy foot gently settled itself across his lower back, where the dreaded burn marks were –

"I warned you to not get close to Nick. I warned you, again and again. And you still got close to him, and you still stuck to him like a leech. So I gave you a better warning." The pressure on his back grew. "You still have 'em, don't you, Johnny? Remember how you shivered like a leaf when you were on the ground just like you are today? Boy, I didn't think you were that weak, but you were. A couple of smacks and you were down. A few cigarettes in and you passed out." Eric chuckled again, the humor in his voice full of venom.

"And here we are today. I haven't even hit you yet, and you're on the ground like a piece of dog shit. I'm not goin' to go easy on you just because you're shit, though. I'm never gonna go easy on you until we're through, Johnny. Is that clear? I SAID, IS THAT CLEAR?"

Jonathan kept his lips sealed, his throat no longer able to produce a single comprehensible sound. _Please, save me_.

He felt a hand on his back, and a growl commanding him to get up as the hand yanked him by the collar into a kneeling position. Eric stood in front of him, a towering figure armed with a wooden baseball bat. A lethal hatred boiled in his eyes as he played with the bat, examining it closely. It became evident to Jonathan that Eric was in an extremely dangerous mood – he meant to _kill_.

"I'm gonna hit you until you scream, Johnny. I'm gonna make sure every bone in your body breaks, and every bit of you hate your life from here on." Eric threatened, his voice a harsh whisper. "You've made my life hell for ten goddamn years. It's time you paid up for everythin' you've done."

Eric raised the bat and swung away, sending the bat flying through the air and meeting Jonathan's left thigh with a loud thud.

He thought he could scream no more, but the first blow sent a shockwave through his bones and every nerve in his body. The pain was excruciating, as though Eric had stabbed straight through the bone in his thigh from the inside. He cried out in pain, his voice breaking at every edge as tears began to form in his eyes. His knees buckled slightly, and he swayed on the spot in an instinctive measure to not put weight on his left leg.

Eric smirked, a disgusting expression of pleasure forming across his face. "I'm just getting' started, Johnny. I've gotta say, it's so satisfyin' hearing you scream, knowin' you feel what I've felt for so long. But what do you say, boys," He looked around at the other men, "if I tell you to give him hell?"

Laughter surrounded him as the men began to close in on him. _I'm going to die_ , Jonathan thought to himself weakly.

A fist soon met his face, knuckles cracking against his nose and lips, sending hot, thick fluid running down his nose and down his mouth. Even before he had time to recover from the agony, a knee met his forehead, with Eric bludegoning his left arm with the bat. More screams filled the air, and Jonathan fell to the ground once more, no longer strong enough to keep himself up. A small part of his consciousness was made aware of how wet and cold his face was against the ground, with tears and blood mixed with wet snow against his face. His body burned furiously and a continuous throbbing centered itself mercilessly in his limbs, constantly reminding him of the blows that he was receiving from Eric and his gang.

"Merry Christmas, Johnny," Eric yelled, as he lowered the bat into Jonathan's right arm with a resounding smack, sending more tears pouring out of his eyes and a weak whimper to escape his lips. The pain, however, was far less, as his body was becoming numb to the attacks. His mind was increasingly hazy with each blow to the head that he got.

He had lost track of time. He did not know how long the beatings went on for, or where he was hit. His body hurt all the same, and all he knew was that at a certain point of time, the sounds of fists, feet, knees and bats meeting his body ended, giving way to a loud commotion amongst the men as they left him lying in the middle of a snowy road. With the last of his energy, he turned his head ever so slightly to see bright lights flashing in the distance, a continual exchange of red and blue. _Thank you_ , he murmured silently in his head as he began to make out figures rushing at him in the dark – some in dark clothing and others in light blue. The colors blurred in his eyes as the weakness in his body took over, fading into a solid, still black.

* * *

 _I'm sorry for the long wait! I'm even more sorry if the coming chapters also do take some time, but I'll try to push them out efficiently!_

 _I hope you enjoyed this chapter!_

 _-delmin_


	11. Chapter 11 - Broken

He was suspended, in a limbo. _Is this what death feels like?_

He tried to move his body, only to find that it was restrained and heavy. He was no longer in pain, neither was he numb from the pain. It was a different sort of numbness – an odd sense of weakness that permeated every single nerve in his body. It was as though his mind was completely disjointed from his body. Strangely enough, the way he was suspended in the numbed stillness was an immense comfort to him. There was no pain, no sorrow, no Eric, nothing. There was just him and his thoughts in the quiet of the dark. He could live with that and simply stay in that state. _I could stay here forever_.

As he drifted, he heard soft, muffled noises, voices of people. He could not make out any comprehensible words, let alone sentences from these voices – they were but small little vocalizations barely audible to his ears. As soon as the soft sounds came, they left, flitting in and out like slow, pulsating beats.

Nothing of note occurred for the longest time. The closest he had gotten to consciousness was a small event that helped him realize that he was very much alive, and still very much connected to reality. He had no idea how long he had been drifting, or how many times the soft sounds surrounding him came and went. At some point of time, voices echoed through his head again, this time neither as soft as before nor as momentary as before.

Two familiar voices were railing against each other – a man's voice, rough, agitated and loud, against a woman's, shrill and high. _Luke and Jenn. How nostalgic. Did I go back in time_?

The voices grew louder and clearer. _They're arguing. About me. I already can remember how this goes. Jenn says something amongst the lines of –_

"God – It's a _miracle_ he's even alive! And you didn't even – _bother_ – to call me the first thing you do? I'm his sister, for Christ's sake!"

 _Nailed it. And Luke's going to say –_

"I didn't know what to do, okay! He's my little brother as much as he is yours! If you were worried, I sure as hell am!"

 _Poor Luke. You're worried, I know, but being stubborn about this isn't going to save yourself with Jenn. She's equally as stubborn. She'll tell you –_

"That's a damned fine excuse! What're you going to do, call me only if he dies? Or even better, are you just going to keep it from me forever?"

 _Luke isn't going to. He'd tell you –_

"I wasn't! For fuck's sake, Jenn, I called you later than I should have, but you were the first person I called – because I thought you were the first person who deserved to know!"

"I'm afraid I'll have to stop you two here," A stern voice cut in. _Here comes the nurse_. "You two are too loud, and you are disturbing the other patients."

"This is none of your business!" The two voices yelled in unison, before apologizing in a smaller voice. "Sorry."

 _Hm. That's exactly how it went. Me, lying there, barely conscious, listening to you two lovebirds fight it out, listening to how the rift between you two started to form. Neither of you know how terrible it felt when I heard eight years of love start to tear apart at the seams. About a year more and you two wouldn't even look at each other anymore. Believe me, the night you idiots broke up, I didn't know who to side with, because I loved you both so much._

The voices did not end there. After a long silence, Jenn's voice echoed out once more, softer, calmer and sadder.

"We've been through this before, and we're fighting again over the same thing. We're not even together anymore."

 _I don't remember this_ , Jonathan thought as he drifted, and he tried to listen closer.

"It's so stupid. We're so stupid. You know that?" Luke murmured. "The same damn thing over the same damn idiot, ten years down the road. It almost felt like we never broke up or grew up for a second there."

"Don't even mention that. Your girlfriend's going to be upset with you if she knows I'm here."

"Hannah's gonna understand."

"No, she's not." Jenn snapped sharply at Luke. "She's going to wonder if we've got any lingering feelings for each other, which I'm sure we don't. And I would've gone out of my way to stay away and never think or talk about you ever again, but you're _his_ best friend. You and his other friends are all that he can talk about, and I'm too old to be that sensitive and flinch at the mention or the thought of you."

"Hannah's gonna understand," Luke repeated. "She'll understand because she understands that."

"Don't," Jenn drew a deep breath, "Just don't. I know she will be. No matter how understanding she is, you can't stop her from feeling just a small bit worried at first. If she loves you, there will always be a part of her that's wondering."

Luke fell silent, at a loss.

The noises around him soon faded into nothingness, and he was once again thrust into the void. It was a lot quieter now, the pulsing of sounds much less frequent and much softer than before. Jonathan wondered to himself how long this unusual heaven would last. It was odd not being able to talk to Luke, or to play games with his friends, yet he felt completely in place and absolutely at peace. It was like he was having a long-needed rest after all the chaos and all the events that had happened.

The pulsing continued on, with snippets of his surroundings being made audible to him every once in a while. It was almost as though he was drifting in and out of consciousness without ever opening his eyes or seeing the world around him. _How comfortable_.

Voices came and went with the pulses. He heard Luke's voice against Jenn's voice, Luke's voice against Hannah's voice, Jenn's voice with his parent's, each time with a similar line of conversation – how it was a miracle he even survived, how badly he was injured, how worried they were, how they wondered if he's ever going to wake up from his comatose state. He heard the words "fractures", "lacerations" and "concussion" a couple of times, yet he could feel none of the said injuries. All he could do, and all that he gladly did, was to wait, drifting about in a cool darkness.

At some point, new, yet familiar voices came within earshot. A man and a woman. The man's voice was soft, boyish at times, and the woman's voice was high and delicate. _Why are you here?_

"He looks… so beat up," she whispered sadly. "He looked so happy and well when we last saw him."

"I know," he answered her, distressed, his voice cracking slightly. "God… I've always seen him so happy and heard him laughing so happily. I never thought I'd ever see him like this – so quiet, so broken…"

"The doctors say he's going to be fine… eventually. Things may look bleak now, but he's probably resting up and slowly recovering," she coaxed softly.

"I'm so sorry I brought you all the way here to see this," he murmured. "I couldn't stand worrying…"

"It's okay. We have to do all this together, it's a sign of our love. Besides…treat it as a pre-wedding honeymoon. Once he gets up and gets well, we'll go see the mountains together – just the two of us."

 _You shouldn't even be here, Evan. You and Sarah should be at home in L.A., planning your wedding together. You should be getting married, not wasting your time with me._

A soft, high yawn. "I'm sorry."

"You're tired," Evan murmured in a low voice. "You should get back to the hotel and get some sleep."

"And you? You've been up since last night."

"I'll be here watching him. In case he wakes up and gets scared or something."

"I'll… get going then. Get some rest yourself, either way," Sarah replied, her tone odd and hesitant. Soft, almost inaudible creaking filled the air as she left the room.

Something pressed down on his hands, warm and whole. If Jonathan could have jumped, he would have instantly done so at the sensation. He could feel his body. He was no longer suspended, but lying down in a mass of softness. His limbs felt heavy and numb, yet the feeling on his hands was intensely pleasant. He tried to wrap his mind around the object that was pressing down on his hands – they were warm, slightly rough, bony at certain points, and long and large, just enough to act like gloves for his hands. Realization began to dawn upon him – they were hands, familiar hands and familiar fingers holding onto his _. Evan's hands are on mine. He's holding my hands, just like when we skated together._

A part of him wished to look, to be able to see Evan's hands on his and know that Evan was there, showering him with care. Another part of him wished to never know, to never feel the slightest hint of hope from Evan's actions. A bittersweet feeling blossomed from the warmth of their hands.

"Please wake up, Jonathan," He heard Evan whisper, each word dripping with endless worry and pain. He felt Evan's hands tighten its grip on his.

"We're all worried about you. Everybody's worried. Luke looks like he hasn't slept in days, and Hannah's dozing off even just standing. Your sister's practically living off the coffee machine and I think she's beginning to lose it. And Sarah and I…" He took a deep breath before continuing. "Sarah and I… we freaked when we heard. First thing I thought of doing was to come and see you. I hoped that you would be fine when I landed, that you would be sitting upright, shit-eating grin on your face, eating whatever's on your plate with a healthy appetite. I hoped that you would be fine, perfectly fine."

He let out a deep, heavy sigh. "And here you are, lying here, so still. I miss hearing your laugh, Jonathan. That laugh that reminds me every single day of how much fun we've had together, the laugh that reminds me every day of how special a person you are. And without you… and that laugh… it's so strange, Jonathan. So please… wake up soon. Wake up and laugh like you always do."

 _I wish I could, Evan. I wish I could – but even if I woke up, I don't think I can laugh._

The sounds around him faded out once more, and he could no longer feel his body. He was drifting once more, suspended in the unknown. It was an odd feeling to be alone in the darkness now, knowing that Evan sat beside him, waiting for him to open his eyes. He wanted desperately to see the warm, dark chocolate brown eyes gaze down into his own, a guilty pleasure of sorts. He wanted to hear more from Evan, to hear that voice that he had grown so accustomed to hearing over the years. Listening to Evan make that little speech over his body reminded him of something that he had suppressed for some time – the sheer joy of being around Evan, hearing him talk and laugh and listening to his bad puns. He was beginning to miss everything they had done as friends and more – yet the feeling did not come without guilt and heartache. He missed Evan, yet he dared not to hope for him.

Seconds, minutes, hours… perhaps even days had passed – it felt all the same to Jonathan. The drifting continued, but the pulsing was becoming increasingly frequent, and with each pulse, he could feel more and more of his body, and experienced more and more of his surroundings. Each time he become aware of his physical surroundings, he discovered something new – the sensations on his fingertips, the feeling of bandages constricting his head, a leg and his arms. He was regaining control of his body, bit by bit, and was being pulled back into reality, away from the distant darkness that he had sunken himself into.

The darkness began to dissolve. Light was peeking through his eyelids, almost painfully so. He was awake, conscious. All he had to do now was to open his eyes, and he would be back in his own world, in his own body, in his own miserable life.

He felt a hand gently stroke the hair on his head, each long finger running through the strands silently, affectionately. A soft, weary sigh escaped the person's lips. "I'm sorry."

 _Time to wake up, it seems_.

He slowly lifted his heavy lids, allowing the bright light into his eyes as gently as he could. He frowned as the light painfully hit him, and a blur of colors began to slowly come into focus, taking shapes with clear, distinct edges beginning to form. When his eyes fully opened, he began to focus on small little patterns around him as they became sharper – the texture of the rough, painted ceiling, the smooth, metallic surface of a dimmed lamp above.

It was then that something came into view – something that made his heart beat slightly faster, something that made him feel inexplicable joy. A pair of dark brown eyes peeked into his field of vision, concerned and bloodshot with exhaustion.

"Jonathan?" Evan whispered softly, hope rolling through his handsome features. "Are you awake? Can you see me?"

Jonathan shuddered slightly as he took a deep breath, his chest aching slightly as his lungs expanded for the sudden intake of more air. "Evan," he breathed through his chapped lips, his voice barely forming in his throat. _The first thing I saw had to be you_.

"Oh, god…just… just relax," Evan murmured, barely able to keep the excitement and relief out of his voice. The hand that was once on his head shifted away as Evan pressed on a button somewhere above Jonathan's head near a lit lamp, and Evan straightened up, fingers trailing across the sides of the bed, allowing his body to come into full view. It was at that point that Jonathan began to notice that dark circles had developed under Evan's eyes from the utter lack of sleep, and he was barely even able to stand perfectly straight, his legs looking as though they might buckle and give way at any point of time.

A creak resounded from the doorway as a nurse, all dressed in white pushed through the darkness. Upon noticing Jonathan's movements and conscious state, she strutted over to the bedside and calmly shone a bright flashlight into Jonathan's eyes, causing him to squint slightly.

"Okay, dear, how are you feeling?" She queried softly, her tone motherly.

"Weird and numb," Jonathan croaked. "Heavy."

"Could you move your right hand for me, please? Right hand onto left shoulder. Slowly."

Jonathan wiggled the fingers on his right hand slowly, and gingerly lifted his less-bandaged right arm up to her, and tapped his left shoulder gently, avoiding the heavy amounts of bandaging on his left arm. As the nurse nodded, she continued –

"Do you know where you are?"

"The hospital."

The nurse nodded once more, and took a short look at a monitor near her before she started once again.

"Your vital signs look fine, and you seem to be responding well. Be careful about your arms and your legs, and make sure your breathing is slow and steady. Let me know if you need anything else or if the pain gets too serious."

She left the ward quickly, her footsteps lightly trilling off into the distance.

Jonathan looked back over at Evan, who was staring at him expectantly, a small tired smile etched upon his face. His usually-spiky hair was now worn down and flattened on his head in a faux comb-over, adding to the sense of fatigue that he was giving off.

"You look like shit," Jonathan whispered.

"Yeah, I probably do," Evan replied sheepishly. "But you look terrible, dude. You looked even worse asleep."

Jonathan smiled at him weakly. "How bad am I?"

He watched as Evan frowned, lines forming on his tired face. "Concussion, broken left arm and leg, your right side is pretty battered as well and you've got a few bruised ribs."

"Funny." Jonathan smiled, unsure why he felt strangely humored by the conversation. He felt like giggling and laughing, but his chest ached slightly even as he breathed.

Evan cocked his head to the side, mildly amused. "You're really doped up, huh?"

"I think so. Why're you here?"

The small smile vanished from his lips. "Luke texted us saying you just got beaten up and sent into the hospital. I needed to be here for a good friend."

"So… you flew all the way here just so you could make sure I'm alive."

"…Yeah." Evan looked away, biting his lip. "Besides, Sarah wanted to see North Carolina at some point. It'll be a nice trip for her."

"You guys shouldn't even be here. You've got a wedding to plan. And… well, in this state, I'm a curse to couples. The last time a couple stuck around when I was in the hospital, they broke up."

Evan chuckled. "I'm pretty sure that was totally a curse. Look, you got your Christmas ruined for you. I'm here to fix that and make your New Year a happy one, okay?"

"Oh shit, it's the New Year now? How the hell long have I been out?"

Evan laughed louder, and gently returned to stroking Jonathan's hair gently. "It's only the twenty-eighth of December. Well, twenty-ninth, now that it's past midnight. You've been out for three days so far."

"Felt like it might've been forever." Jonathan sighed, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the feeling of Evan's fingers running through the soft locks on his head.

After a short pause, Evan began again, his tone serious this time. "From what I heard from Luke and from the looks of you, this looks like the work of a gang."

"Mmm-hmm?" Jonathan hummed softly in response.

"Jonathan, please. You remember what I told you back in L.A. … so please, if you're in a gang, or if you've pissed off some gang leader –"

"Evan," Jonathan said loudly, interrupting him. "I'm not in a gang, okay? And I – well, I can't say I haven't pissed off someone before. I just happened to be in a bad place at a bad time."

"Really?" Evan narrowed his eyes at him. "Because whoever it was looks like he meant business. Even if you got unlucky… this person seems to have wanted you dead. He knew you. And you probably knew him, too."

Jonathan opened his eyes once more, looking into Evan's dark eyes as it pierced him with an intense, yet drained glare. There was no point in hiding it from him – not when Evan knew him that well.

"Don't tell Luke. He won't ever get off my ass if he knew."

"So you do know him then. The entire gang attack wasn't entirely coincidental."

"But it was – I was really in the wrong place at the wrong time," Jonathan struggled to explain. "I could've taken a wrong turn elsewhere, and ended up in some other gang territory, but I just had to turn up in Eric's area."

"What did you do to him?" Evan asked gravely. "What made him hate you so much?"

"I… I sent him to jail once. Ten years ago." Jonathan bit his lip, staring at Evan directly in the eye whilst hoping that Evan wouldn't pry further. "I don't know when he got out, but I think I might've ruined his life."

"Why –"

"Look," Jonathan cut him off. "Evan, you're tired. It really doesn't matter that much. You've got to see me wake up. I'm fine now. All I've got left to do is to recover and start walking and using my hands again. Go home and get some sleep, dude."

Evan stared at him for the longest time, his eyes blank, before shrugging and giving up. He walked away and sank himself onto a couch nearby, laying his body onto the soft cushions.

"What are you doing?" Jonathan probed. "I said go home and get some sleep."

"My home's more than two thousand miles away," Evan murmured sleepily. "The next best thing is right here next to a good friend."

"I thought the next best thing was in the hotel room with Sarah."

"I'm too tired to go all the way back there. I'll crash the car and it isn't even mine." Evan sounded as though he was already half-asleep. "And… Jonathan? You've got to tell Luke someday. About… whoever that guy…is…"

His words dragged off into a soft snore as he lay there on the couch fast asleep. His lips parted slightly, loosely as his facial muscles relaxed, leaving Jonathan staring wistfully at the unobtainable man that he loved so much.

* * *

"How much fucking longer do I have to stay here?" Jonathan whined, pouting his lips like a child. "The food sucks and I miss my own comfy bed. And the place smells terrible."

"Stop whining about it, you're being such a baby," Jenn snapped bluntly. "We're not even sure if you're well enough to get out of bed yet."

He heard Evan snort slightly in a corner as he tried to suppress a laugh, and Luke shifted uncomfortably in his seat on the couch beside him.

"Actually, if he's not happy with where he is, we can ask insist for a discharge," Luke said a matter-of-factly. "The doctor can take a look at him and see if he can recover at home, and then we can just take him home and let him recover happily. He'll probably heal faster that way, too."

Jenn turned towards Luke, raising an eyebrow, and the atmosphere in the room became extremely intense, as though Luke had dropped a bomb in the middle of the room. _Uh oh._

"And what if something terrible happens to him, huh? Are you going to take responsibility for it? Oh, I forgot. You don't know how to deal with it." Jenn replied darkly.

"God damn it, Jenn, I said we'd get a doctor to give him the green light first. And if anythin' goes wrong we send him straight back here!"

A pair of meek hazel eyes peeked in through the doorway, with a distressed expression on whatever else was visible of Hannah's face. Jonathan gave her a small, understanding smile, just as the bomb in the room exploded, sending Jenn and Luke into another yelling match –

"This is my younger brother we're talking about, Luke, I'm not fucking risking his damn life because he's acting like a spoilt brat!"

"He evidently ain't happy here, how the fuck d'you expect him to recover any faster? It's a couple of broken bones and a few deep cuts, and maybe his head might be still a little fucked up. Don't you dare act like he ain't a little brother to me too!"

"ARE YOU DOWNPLAYING MY BROTHER'S –"

"Both of you, SHUT THE HELL UP!" Jonathan yelled, discomfort in his chest from the agitation. Luke and Jenn quietened down, their mouths hanging open slightly, and looked at him with a stunned look in their eyes.

Jonathan took a slow, deep breath and began again, satisfied with the attention. "If you both want to continue your bickering, take it outside. Even better, take it where I can't see or hear you both, because number one, you guys aren't together anymore and will never be together ever again, and number two, you guys fucking aren't teenagers anymore, so stop acting like fucking annoying teenagers. So go make yourselves useful and go buy me something sweet to drink or something, and get the fuck out of here."

The pair shot a look at each other, exchanging an understanding, before shuffling reluctantly out of the room. Evan stared after them, before turning his eyes back to Jonathan, caught between awe and amusement.

"What?" Jonathan asked.

"You shut them up," he laughed softly. "I've never seen you like that before. Rather, I've never seen you get this annoyed before. It's kinda cute. And scary, but well, still kinda cute."

"Shut up and try to get me out of here, Evan." Jonathan sighed as he felt the red trickle across his cheeks. "I'm sick of being in here."

Evan sidled out of the room, and his place was soon replaced by Hannah.

"Thank you," she murmured shyly, her lips curving into a small smile.

"No problem," Jonathan returned her smile. "Do you feel weird being around Jenn knowing that she and Luke used to be together?"

Hannah sighed. "They're so similar… I can't help but wonder if that was how they were like when they were together back then, too. The way they fight is almost like an old married couple. And I'm just someone that Luke picked up along the way."

"You're not. He loves you, and you know that. He's done with Jenn, they're through. They broke up for a reason – you can't have two lions prowling around on the same mountain. Or at least, you can't have two people constantly turning the other into a lion living with each other. It's what broke them."

"Still… I can't help but feel like I shouldn't be here, around them two. Even if I knew that they were done, once and for all… I can't shake off the feeling that they might just… not for a while."

Jonathan looked down at his bandaged arms. "I can't say I know how you feel. But if anything…what the two of us need is hope, so… let's hope together."

A silence fell upon them both as a man clad in a white coat made his way into the room, explaining hurriedly that he had to do a thorough check to ensure that Jonathan was perfectly okay before he could allow him to be discharged. Evan failed to appear until much later, settling back down on the couch as he entered the room once more, giving Jonathan a small confident smile and a quick thumbs up. The doctor began to work over him and ramble about what he had to know and what he faced if he did discharge, and Jonathan nodded every once in a while, barely listening, all the while not being able to tear his eyes away from Evan.

"Alright," the doctor spoke as he finished his checks. "You seem well enough, no alarming signs of any other serious issues with your injuries. If you do insist, you are free to go. All that's left is to sign the papers for discharge, a couple of sessions of physiotherapy, and the removal of your stitches and casts. The arm, the leg and your ribs may hurt quite a bit, but it should be fine. Mild headaches are also to be expected, but at the first sign of hemorrhaging, I want you back here, understood?"

Jonathan nodded, and the man left the room.

"I'll go sign the papers for your discharge. I'll call Luke to inform him, too," Hannah announced, leaving Jonathan alone with Evan once again. Evan stood, and made his way over to Jonathan, coming uncomfortably close. Jonathan felt his heart break into the race beneath the hospital gown as Evan reached over behind him, pulling on the strings of the gown.

"What are you doing?" Jonathan asked, voice barely coming out of his throat.

"Helping you change. You're not going to walk out of here in a paper-thin hospital gown with your ass hanging out, are you?"

"I don't, but I'm pretty sure I don't have clothes to change _into_ ," Jonathan noted as Evan gently pulled his right arm out of the sleeve of the gown, exposing a portion of Jonathan's bare body to the cold air of the ward. "Even if someone could somehow salvage my clothes from Christmas Day, I don't think I can pull the jeans over my leg."

"They saved your coat, at the very least. You'll need that for later. But right now," Evan pulled a heavily bandaged arm out from another sleeve, "I have a good enough solution for you."

"What, strip me naked and send me home like that? I'd love that." Jonathan replied sarcastically, the furious blush beginning to return to his cheeks as he realized that he was becoming increasingly bare in front of Evan.

"You're not going to go home naked, I swear," Evan mumbled, and Jonathan could have sworn he saw a rush of red on his face as he turned away to retrieve a package that had mysteriously appeared on the couch, and he pulled a pair of large navy sweatpants out of the package alongside a white shirt that looked like it might be a few sizes too big for Jonathan.

"None of those are gonna fit," Jonathan whined as he realized what Evan had in mind.

"It's good enough for your state. You can't expect to wear your regular clothes with a cast on your entire left side. Now quit whining and help yourself a little."

"How?" Jonathan whined further, a part of him enjoying the annoyed look that Evan gave him when the tone crept into his voice. "I'm a one-armed bandit."

"Help me when I pull it over your arm," Evan motioned, as he sought out a sleeve and pulled it over Jonathan's left arm slowly, and the two spent a moment shifting his bandaged arm about to fit through the sleeve of the shirt.

"That should do it," Evan commented, looking as though he had just been through a great ordeal. He promptly wrapped the rest of the shirt over Jonathan's head and body, dressing his torso in record speed, with Jonathan barely doing any work. As the fabric came past his face, he caught a whiff of what was possibly the cleanest, most attractive scent on the planet.

Once the shirt was completely on his body, Jonathan gave Evan an inquisitive look and asked, "Whose clothes are these?"

"Mine. Kind of. I wear these mainly after gym time. I wanted to change into it earlier but then you asked to go home, so…I suppose it wouldn't go to waste, now."

"Figured. It's huge." Jonathan said as he fiddled with the hem of the shirt.

"It's _comfortable_ ," Evan corrected. "I need to get your leg into these pants, so spread your legs a little."

Jonathan snickered, trying hard not to laugh as Evan flushed upon realization at how terribly suggestive his comment had sounded. "Okay, that sounded wrong, but you get the idea."

Jonathan did as instructed, albeit uncomfortably so. The fact that Evan was dressing him was dangerous enough, and the fact that Jonathan himself loved the man and was incredibly attracted to him did not help the situation at all. The idea that he had completely nothing underneath the hospital gown that was now bundled at his waist and the possibility that Evan might catch a glimpse of his body flicked a switch in his head, and he became more alert than ever.

"I'll do it myself!" He nearly yelled as he sat upright abruptly, his right hand shooting up to stop Evan. A sharp pain surged through his chest from the sudden motion and agitation. Evan stilled, alarm soaking in as Jonathan winced painfully.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," Jonathan breathed softly, clutching ribs gently. "I'll – I'll do it myself."

"You sure you don't need my help?" Evan asked, concerned. "At least let me help you pull it through the one leg."

"Maybe just that," Jonathan muttered, mentally willing his heart to slow down. "Just… be careful."

Evan nodded slowly, and gingerly threaded Jonathan's bandaged leg through a pant leg. His actions became increasingly slow and increasingly hesitant, as though he was beginning to realize something as he moved the fabric up Jonathan's leg and onto his thigh, his fingers stilling and hovering over the pale flesh for a second before he snapped his head up, gesturing for Jonathan to take over. He turned away, walking towards a window and busying himself by slowly drawing the curtains, giving Jonathan the privacy he needed to push his other leg through and pull the sweatpants all the way up to his waist.

* * *

"Honey, we're home," Jonathan giggled, calling out into the empty house as he was wheeled in by Luke and Evan. Jenn rolled her eyes at him as she shuffled past him with a large thermos flask in her hands.

"You don't have a honey, shut up."

"Tch, Jenn, you don't have a sense of humor."

"Don't need one, I'm pissed as it is. I don't think we need so many people here now, do we?"

"Jenn –"

"You two, go do your own thing with your girlfriends. You've done your bit, go!" Jenn commanded, talking over Jonathan. "I don't want any more than two people taking care of my brother at any point of time. You got him out of hospital, you make sure he gets ample rest. And that starts _now_. So go."

Jonathan looked around quietly, first at Jenn, then at Luke and Evan, and he sighed. "She's right, I suppose. You guys… go do your stuff. Go to Hannah. And spend time with Sarah, or the trip will be wasted for her."

Luke rolled his eyes and walked out of the door grumpily. Evan, however, stood hesitating for a moment, before muttering that he'll be back to visit soon, before he too left the house, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Jenn pulled the coat that was draped loosely on his shoulders off him, and sighed softly to herself. "I saw you with this coat on on Christmas, standing in front of me, playing with Gina, talking dreamily about Evan. Now you're here, coat barely on you, in a wheelchair with broken arms and legs, staring dreamily at Evan's ass."

"I'm not staring." Jonathan returned, pouting slightly.

"Yeah, and he's not stealing glances at your pretty face or at your ass, either." Jenn rolled her eyes once more. "You two are the biggest liars I've ever met to date. You two look good together, so hurry up and give Gina her new uncle already."

"Jenn…"

" _Don't worry, I'll be back to see you_ ," Jenn mimicked. "And, god, the way he looks at you. Tell me that's not a man who has the hots for you. He practically looks at you like you're the brightest thing in the room, or like he's dying of thirst and you're the only thing that can quench his thirst."

"You're making it sound more than it actually is, Jenn."

She smirked. "Go ahead, lie to yourself more. I haven't been wrong most of the time since I've had Gina."

"Jenn, he has Sarah. He loves her and he's going to marry her."

"Suit yourself. I can say that I think he loves you more, but I can't change your mind, and neither can I change his." Jenn shrugged and folded up his coat, leaving it on the couch as she walked into the kitchen area. Behind the kitchen counter, she popped open the thermos flask, and an unappealing scent wafted through the air, causing Jonathan to wrinkle his nose.

"Aw, man," he complained, "More hospital food?"

"You're sick, deal with it. In other news, I can't give you a shower even though you _stink_ for obvious reasons, so I'll probably get Luke to do it. Even better, maybe I should get Evan to do it. You'll like that, won't you?" She winked deviously.

"Shut up," Jonathan growled at her as she approached with a bowl of steaming plain gruel. He glanced down at it, flinching. "That looks terrible. Couldn't you have added a little corn or pumpkin in it?"

"I would've, but I can't do much while worrying about my baby brother," she teased. "Okay, I admit, I'm not the best at making food for the sick and injured, but can't you show the slightest appreciation for me?"

Jonathan made a face, thinking back to the previous month with Evan caring for him when he was sick. He was ill and his head was heavy, but Evan's presence and Evan's care made him feel much better, possibly even better than when he wasn't ill.

"Yeah, I know," Jenn answered his unspoken thoughts. "I'm not as good as Evan."

"How did you –"

"I told you before. I'm your sister, and I'm a mother. There's nothing I can't see when it comes to you. So tell me about it – he did something like this for you at some point?"

"I fell sick once in L.A…. and well, he came over and made soup and took care of me, stuff like that."

Jenn laughed softly. "I see why you and Sarah are both crazy about him, then. He sounds like a complete dreamboat. Most of all, I think he's the right person for you. At least, that's the way I see it."

"What's the point?" Jonathan retorted sadly. "He didn't choose me. It's Sarah he chose. Whatever he feels, even if there's a slight chance that he did feel something for me, I'm not the person he wants."

Jenn cocked an eyebrow, amused. "Really? He came all the way out here because you were hurt. Nobody else in your little circle of friends did that – they sent their well wishes and gifts and did what they could to support you while you're down without disrupting their everyday lives. Evan dropped _everything_ and came to see you. This is a man that has a lot to do, and a wedding to plan on top of it. Are you sure he didn't choose you?"

Jonathan bit his lip, falling silent. Jenn smiled triumphantly at him and slid a makeshift table adjusted to his height towards him with the bowl of gruel atop it. He ate in silence, thinking deeply about her words – _did he really choose me?_

"Take your meds," Jenn ordered as he polished off the last of the tasteless gruel. Jonathan did so reluctantly, feeling the bitter taste of each pill rush through his mouth and prompting him to down copious amounts of water each time he swallowed. When he finally swallowed the last pill, he made a face at Jenn, who returned his sour attitude with disdain.

"Don't be such a baby."

Jonathan stuck his tongue out at her and tried to get out of the wheelchair shakily. Almost instantly, Jenn was at his side, holding on to him and guiding him towards the couch. As he settled down onto the cushions of his couch, Jenn vanished into his room, and re-appeared with a small pillow as well as a large blanket. She placed the pillow under his head and draped the blanket over his body.

"Don't move suddenly like that or on your own," she scolded gently. "You'll break something again and waste all the effort that they spent trying to get you out. Have a good rest and relax."

She moved off, hanging up his coat on a hook and cleaning up the house in general, as an all-too-familiar haziness induced by medication began to wash over his head. He still could not sleep, however, not without knowing one detail –

"Jenn?" He called out woozily.

"What happened to me that night?"

She turned and looked over at him, puzzled. "You already know – you somehow turned up in gang territory, you got beat up by a couple of gangsters. I simply got a call from Luke way after you got sent into the hospital. And then the police called and said you were in the hospital as a victim of what seemed like a gang attack."

"Does Luke know that Eric was there?" he mumbled, fighting through the growing fuzz in his head.

Jenn paused, and Jonathan could see the alarm go off in her head as she turned away, obscuring her face from his view.

" _That_ Eric? The one that… ten years ago…?"

He watched as her grip on a broom tightened, threatening to break the stick into half. He nodded slowly. _She doesn't know. Luke didn't know, either – or he didn't tell her_.

"He did this to you?!" She seethed through clenched teeth, barely able to contain her anger.

"Not important… but does Luke know?"

"He never mentioned anything of that sort. But it _is_ important, Jonathan, don't you see? God," She huffed, "He had a motive – he wanted to kill you!"

"That's all I needed to know, Jenn."

"But Jon-"

"I'm trying to sleep here, Jenn. I can't rest well if you're making a racket."

His elder sister stared daggers at him for a short moment before giving up, and she stood to switch off the lights. Somewhere in the dark, she came over to him and gently stroked his head, the way she did when they were little children, and whispered for him to sleep well as the fog in his mind grew, taking over his consciousness.

* * *

 _Jonathan_ , a voice called out through the haze, smooth as silk. _It's time to wake up. You've been sleeping for ages, and isn't the couch uncomfortable?_

"Go away, Dad."

Soft laughter – not from one, but two people. _Come on, wake up, sleepyhead,_ the voice continued. _You've got to take a bath_. _You haven't taken one in forever_.

"I don't wanna."

 _Wake up,_ the voice repeated, and he felt a warm hand against his hair, stroking it gently. _Luke's going to throw you straight into the water if you're not awake_.

Jonathan reluctantly pulled his heavy eyelids back as Evan's face came into view. Dazzled, he drew back his head suddenly, unable to breathe, his heart skipping a beat. He choked slightly, his throat dry, as he tried to regain his ability to think.

"Are you okay? Do you need some water?" Evan asked, concerned, reaching for a bottle of mineral water not far away, quickly opening it and placing the neck of the bottle by his lips, slowly tipping and pouring a small amount of water into his mouth. As the water rushed through his mouth and through his throat, relief settled, and Jonathan sighed softly.

"Is he up yet?" Luke yelled from the bedroom.

"Yeah." Evan answered.

"Help him hobble in here and we'll get started!"

"Come on, get up," Evan whispered softly as he placed his arms over Jonathan, slowly guiding the man to his feet and supporting him as they shuffled into Jonathan's bedroom, arm in arm.

"Where's Sarah and Hannah?" Jonathan asked, his head still caught in the confusion of things.

"Having girl-time together," Luke answered in an offhand fashion. "Anyway, since you can't take a proper shower, you're gonna soak in the bath for a bit, but, uh… there's the problem of undressin' you."

Jonathan stared blankly, blinking at Luke, clueless, before he realized from the look in Luke's eyes what he meant. He would have to stand completely bare in front of his best friend and the man he couldn't get out of his head. The same people would wash him down and have their hands on almost every part of his body. Almost involuntarily, he flushed.

"Right," Luke continued, as though he could read Jonathan's mind. "Evan, could you run the bath? I'll deal with this."

Evan nodded, and slowly lowered Jonathan into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, before he proceeded into the bathroom. The sound of taps running and water rushing resounded from the interior of the bathroom, and Jonathan whispered softly to Luke, "Thank you."

"Thank me later, I still haven't figured out how to help you undress and still retain your dignity in front of Evan."

"Can't I wash myself?"

"No can do. If you slip and break anything, Jenn will come after both of us and the next time you'll see me is in a coffin." Luke mumbled as he looked around, before grabbing a large terrycloth towel and wrapping it securely around Jonathan's waist.

"That's not going to solve anything," Jonathan groaned.

"It's your best bet. It's either this or go completely naked, and I don't want to see you completely naked."

Luke tugged at Jonathan's shirt, pulling it up to his chest and extracting his arms from the sleeves, before roughly yanking the rest of the shirt off his body, causing Jonathan to wince and yelp out in pain.

"Evan was much gentler when he put it on," Jonathan complained.

"Yeah, I'm not Evan, bitch. Stand up," Luke instructed, and supported Jonathan to his feet. His features contorting into a scowl, he reached underneath the terrycloth towel and searched for the hem of sweatpants, before quickly pulling it down in one fell swoop. As Jonathan felt the breeze suddenly hit his legs, Luke pulled his pants away from underneath his feet, and Jonathan fell back onto the bed, sorely nursing his injuries.

"You're a terrible caretaker, nobody's that rough."

"Do you want Evan to poke his head out and decide he'll do that for you?" Luke growled in a low voice. "Oh, you'll like it, but remember the situation you're in, idiot."

"Uh, the bath's ready," Evan peeked out from the bathroom, his face illuminated by the bright white light. "Is everything alright? Sounded like he was in pain."

"No, he's just being a baby. I'll poke him and he'll yell bloody murder anyway. I'm nearly done, anyway. I just need to waterproof his bandages and we'll throw him in there."

The task proved much easier as compared to the ordeal of undressing Jonathan, and after his bandaged arms were sufficiently wrapped in cling-wrap, he was escorted and guided into the bathtub by two pairs of strong arms, and he lowered himself into the lukewarm soapy water that Evan had meticulously set up. Jonathan giggled, feeling like a child once more.

"There're so many bub- _bles_ ," he laughed, placing an oddly heavy emphasis on the final syllable. "Where's my rubber ducky?"

Evan laughed softly. "Couldn't find one. Anyway, uh… we'll leave you here to soak for a bit. If you can, you can, uh, wash yourself a little bit. We'll still help you later on anyway, with your hair and the… spots you can't reach." A heated blush slipped into the handsome features as he spoke, and he looked away almost shyly.

Luke glanced between the two, and quickly ushered Evan out. "We'll be back in about ten minutes, take your time!"

The door shut firmly, leaving Jonathan alone in the bubbly bathtub. He could vaguely hear the two men speaking in harsh hushed voices outside, discussing things that he could not make out clearly for himself. Shrugging, he began to scrub himself down weakly with his right hand, his efforts limited only by his aching ribs. Fighting through the pain, he tried to make the best of his time alone and unseen by Luke and Evan, prioritizing the regions where he hoped would not come to the attention of the two men. The terrycloth robe was doing a fairly decent job thus far of covering the bare minimum of his body up, although he had a nasty feeling that his body might betray him in any coming second.

He scrubbed himself down as much as he could until his arms ached, and he lay back, worn out by the effort. He sighed, defeated, and called out for Evan and Luke. The door clicked open, and Evan's head poked in through a tiny gap.

"Something wrong?"

"I give up, I did most of what I could," Jonathan groused.

"Oh." Evan blinked stupidly for a second, as though he was barely paying attention to what Jonathan had just said. "Uh, the hair, then? And maybe Luke can help you with where you left off."

"Fuck off, Evan." Luke called out from a distance away.

"Doesn't sound like he likes that." Jonathan pointed out.

"Yeah," Evan grinned sheepishly, "he didn't get much of a choice in that."

He heard Luke groan as he pushed the door open wider, inviting a cold gust of wind into the bathroom. Jonathan shivered at the unpleasant feeling, sinking his body deeper into the warmth of the water.

"Alright, let's start," Luke grumbled, clearly dissatisfied with the arrangement. "Where can't you reach?"

"My right arm and my legs in general."

Luke grunted and rolled up his pant legs as far up as he could before clambering into the bath-tub, settling himself at the edge of it. A loofah seemed to be conjured out from nowhere, and Luke dipped it into the soapy water, beginning with his once-over on Jonathan. Evan, on the other hand, settled himself by Jonathan's head, wetting his dark hair gently with water and shampooing it generously. Whilst Luke grumbled at his chore, Evan remained thoughtfully quiet, as though he was engrossed deeply in his duty.

Jonathan was the first to break the discomforting silence. "I feel like the most pampered person in the universe right now, guys."

"You better be, 'cause I ain't enjoyin' this." Luke growled under his breath as he stuck the loofah back into the water, scrubbing higher and higher up his thigh, causing Jonathan to giggle at the sensation. Meanwhile, Evan massaged his scalp gently, his fingers threading through strands of hair and copious amounts of suds. _I really am pampered_.

"Alright, I'm done." Luke announced, straightening up with his hands fastening themselves around the shower head. "Hurry up and finish, Evan, we gotta rinse him down now."

He felt as Evan released his hands reluctantly away from his head, and soon a jet of water spurted in his direction, hitting him square in the face.

"What the hell?!" Jonathan sputtered through the first wave. "Not directly in my face!"

"Sorry buddy," Luke answered as he directed the shower head towards his hair, and a waterfall of shampoo and water washed over his face and head. As the waterfall began to clear, the drain was unplugged, and the water levels began to descend. Soon, Jonathan was left sitting in an odd position in the tub, with a drenched terrycloth towel over his waist and Luke hosing him down with water.

The water finally stopped, and a flurry of colors came before him as Evan swept in and wrapped Jonathan up in a large towel, wiping at his hair and at his chest the best he could without hurting him. He was quickly lifted into a standing position with Evan supporting him from behind, whilst Luke swapped out the wet terrycloth towel with a dry towel as quickly as he could. Once that all was done, the two men escorted Jonathan back into the bedroom, where he was thrown underneath the warm covers and blankets on the bed, with a multitude of pillows that Luke had extracted from every possible source in the house propping him upright.

Jonathan took a good long look at both Luke and Evan and almost laughed out loud at the state they were in. Luke's hair was damp and his jeans had dark patches strewn all over it, whilst Evan was splattered with water down his front.

"How the heck did _you_ manage to get that wet?" Jonathan choked out, barely keeping a straight face. "I understand why Luke would be this wet, but you weren't even the one spraying water at me!"

"Because Luke didn't see where he was spraying, that idiot," Evan defended, and Jonathan, unable to hold back any longer, burst into laughter. The two men soon joined in, laughing themselves silly at the situation.

"That sounded so wrong," Jonathan wiped at his eyes when his giggling fit finally began to settle. "So damn wrong."

"Do you have any… uh, larger shirts?" Evan queried in a slightly more serious tone. "I've got to change out of this wet mess."

"That sky blue one he wore to the beach," Luke piped up. "Not the most suitable for the weather now, but it should fit. It's somewhere in the wardrobe."

"Sweet," Evan murmured as he located the fabric in the wardrobe. "Might be a tight fit, but a decent size nevertheless."

"Don't ruin it," Jonathan pleaded as Evan headed back into the bathroom with the shirt. "It's my favorite."

"Doesn't matter, you have plenty of blue shirts in there anyway," Evan called out, and Jonathan pouted at Luke, sending him an accusatory glare – _You did it on purpose, didn't you?_

Luke stuck his tongue out at him as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He shot a quick glance at the bathroom door, ensuring that Evan was well inside the bathroom and out of earshot, before he closed in on Jonathan and whispered gravely –

"It was Eric, wasn't it?"

Involuntarily, Jonathan's eyes widened and a soft gasp escaped his lips. _He knows_.

"It was, wasn't it? Of all the people you had to bump into on the night you got lost on the roads, it had to be him and whatever gang he joined up with."

"How did you figure it out?"

"This entire thing…you getting' beaten up like that… it fuckin' reeks of Eric," Luke frowned, the ever-so-familiar lines forming on his forehead. "The same fuckin' psycho who left those –"

"Stop it," Jonathan retorted sharply. The memories already were making his stomach turn.

Luke paused and assessed the alarm in Jonathan's eyes, aware of the distress that the direction of the conversation was sending him into.

"Sorry, dude. Why didn't you tell me, though? That it was him?"

Jonathan shut his eyes tight and leaned back into the pillows. "Does it matter if it was him or someone else? It doesn't make what he did any worse or any better. It doesn't change anything."

"That's it? You're just gonna let it go?" Luke questioned. "He's the one who –"

Luke stopped himself short, catching himself as he nearly broached the topic of the past again. He continued –

"He's a psycho, Jonathan. The attack wasn't just a bunch of drunken gang members on Christmas night deciding to drunkenly brawl a man that stepped into their territory. That was Eric and the men under his command wanting to _kill_ you."

"And they're going to jail. They're getting their just desserts, and there's nothing I can do to change any bit of that."

"God, Jonathan, the point is, your case handler needs to know. Eric needs to go into a hellhole for what he did to you."

"I don't care where he goes. I just want to recover and get on with my life. End of story."

Luke opened his mouth, ready to speak again when the bathroom door clicked once more, with Evan stepping out donning Jonathan's favorite shirt. The sky blue was an odd combination with his tanned skin, yet the fabric wrapped around his muscular frame perfectly, showing off the curvature of his torso. Jonathan gawped, feeling as though Evan was sucking all the air out of his chest.

"Lookin' good," Luke complimented. "Now go find Sarah. She'll be real happy to see you."

Evan nodded, and bade his farewell to Jonathan, promising to come back the next day to take care and hang out with him, and the front door soon slammed shut.

"What were you two talking about earlier?" Jonathan questioned, looking at Luke earnestly. "While I was soaking away."

"I told him to go to Sarah. It's a shame if he comes here with her to not spend time with her, right?"

Jonathan frowned. "It sounded a lot more serious than that."

Luke sighed heavily. "Okay. Hannah's been spendin' a crazy lot of time with Sarah these days, and she thinks Sarah's freakin' out, going full bridezilla, but to be honest…I think there's more to that. Apparently Sarah's startin' to have doubts about Evan and the marriage and everything. She's not sure if Evan is really into marrying her, or if he's just marrying her because it's the perfect life, all that wife and kids B.S."

"I can't say he doesn't want that. Evan is… _perfect_. And he _wants_ that perfect life, but… it doesn't mean that he doesn't love Sarah and he doesn't want to marry her."

"I know you know Evan the best out of all of us, but don't you think Evan is a little… _too perfect_? Almost like he's hidin' something, a side of him as best as he can."

"I don't wanna speculate, Luke," Jonathan shut his eyes, his head pounding furiously. "I just feel like he is, although I don't even know what makes him perfect, or if he even needs to be that way for anyone."

Luke scoffs and ruffles Jonathan's wet hair gently. "That's because you're the last person on the planet to ever understand this. I was a little envious of you when we first met, you know that? Nobody in your family seemed to care if you were a weird kid, hell, you didn't care either. You just kept truckin' on being who you were, talkin' shit all the time without a care in the world. Then again, you were just a shit-talkin' little kid when we first met, and I was in a rough patch as a teen."

"Either way," Luke continued, "Sarah's not very happy, even if Evan is perfect. Hannah's scared that some shit might go down, so I sent Evan back to her."

Jonathan chewed on his lower lip as he digested the information. _That's another couple. Another couple put in danger by me._

"Aw, come off it, you're a little happy. Evan will be all free for the takin'." Luke purred darkly, answering his thoughts.

"Luke!" Jonathan nearly yelled. "Since when did you become as evil as Jenn?"

Luke shrugged. "I'm speaking the truth. Won't you be happy to have a shot at Evan?"

"Not like that. He'd be broken, and that'd break my heart."

Luke snorted, and stood up from where he sat. "That's sweet and all. But you've missed so much from today, I just wish you'd open your eyes more."

* * *

Jonathan awoke, head pounding and foggy once more. _How long have I been asleep? Better yet, when did I fall asleep? Was that all a dream?_

His recollections were all jumbled up. The last he remembered clearly was the conversation he had with Luke about Evan after his first shower out of the hospital. He could barely remember what he had dreamt about despite always having vivid, hyper-realistic dreams that he could almost always remember.

As he sat up and waited for his head to clear, he could hear soft rustling and crackling coming from outside his room – the sound of a pan or a pot softly sizzling away. He sniffed the air gently, catching the scent of something savory, and his mouth watered. The scent was familiar, something he had smelled a month back. It was the very same scent he had smelled when Evan made him soup on the day that he had fallen ill in California.

"Evan?" He called out in uncertainty. A flurry of footsteps and a cheery Evan peeked through his bedroom door, answering his call.

"Ah, you're awake. Soup's nearly done, give me a few minutes, okay?"

He shrank back out into the living quarters of the house. Mere moments later, after a series of clanging of pots and clinking of bowls, he returned to the bedroom with a bowl of steaming hot soup and a parcel tucked underneath his arm.

"How am I supposed to eat that without a tray?" Jonathan asked.

"Simple," Evan flashed him a killer grin as he settled the bowl down on a table, "I'll feed you. I never got to finish that job from the last time. But first… remember when I asked you about teddy bears? Well… I wanted to give this to you the next time I saw you, but it seems like the 'next time' was a lot sooner than I thought."

He dug into the parcel and pulled out a large brown teddy bear from its depths. Jonathan's eyes widened at the sheer sight of his gift, and he ran his fingers through its fur, its fur soft and fluffy at the very touch. "It's so cute," he breathed.

"I thought you would like it," Evan smiled warmly. "Now you have a cuddle buddy to recover with!"

"I can't really _cuddle_ it with only one arm," Jonathan whined, and Evan placed the teddy bear in his right arm in a snug position.

"See, you're holding him either way. Now, for food!"

Evan picked up the still-smoking bowl of soup and scooped a nice amount of soup onto the spoon, and lifted it to his lips, blowing on the surface gently. Seconds later, he lifted the spoonful of soup to Jonathan's lips instead, and Jonathan parted his lips, inviting a flood of warm, aromatic soup into his mouth. It was just like when he was ill all over again, except Evan committed to his job of feeding him – an act that made his heart swell beyond capacity. His heart pounded as he watched Evan repeat the cycle by lifting the spoon to his lips and cooling the soup gently, and he went into overdrive as Evan tenderly tipped the contents of the spoon into his lips. _If I wasn't already in love with this man, I think I'm falling for him now_.

As the cycle repeated for the umpteenth time, Jonathan spoke. "You're really nice to me, Evan. Do you know that? You're _too nice_ to me."

"You're my friend. And you're nice to me, too. You're nice to everyone."

"That wasn't my point."

"Oh. I'm always nice to everyone. Either way, thank god you woke up soon. I was thinking you'd sleep your way through the fireworks."

"Fire…works?"

"Yeah. It's New Year's Eve, and I think the rest should be coming around soon. _I think_. So hurry up and eat before we miss the fireworks." Evan spooned another spoonful of soup into Jonathan's mouth.

Jonathan swallowed, and continued, refusing to change the subject. "Evan, I… I don't think you should be here with me."

"Where else should I be, then?" Evan asked, not looking at him.

"You should be in California. You should be spending your New Year's Eve with Sarah. You should be doing things that engaged couples do with her. You shouldn't be here in North Carolina taking care of a burden that isn't even yours."

"They'll all be coming here anyway. They'll be bringing the party here, even Sarah's coming. It's not like I'm abandoning her or anything."

"You don't get it, do you?" Jonathan went on, his tone getting heated. He could feel himself spiraling out of control deep within as the feelings in his heart began to overflow. "All that that Luke told you about… you don't understand."

Evan turned away from Jonathan and settled the bowl of soup on the table. ""What don't I understand? That I'm not good enough for Sarah, or anyone else out there? That I have no idea what I'm doing or where I'm going?" His voice grew, his tone becoming harsher and rougher. "That I'm completely messed up and I'm trying to hide it under everything that I'm doing? Or that I'm simply so much of a loser that I can't even tell the people I love what I need them to know?!"

Jonathan had never seen Evan this heated before, neither had he ever heard Evan so flustered, so angry and so anxious before. The man sat before him, silently losing it. He began to speak again, slower and calmer this time.

"I _do_ understand, Jonathan, I really do. I know how she feels about me right now, and I know what she's going through, but I really can't be with her, not right now."

Jonathan watched the man suffer as he spoke, and he opened his mouth, voice cracking as he spoke.

"But you have to, Evan. You chose her. In time… you'll have the perfect little family, no? She'll be your wife, and you two will have children… everything's… perfect…" He lowered his head and played with the sheets on the bed, biting his lip as he did so, suppressing every ounce of feeling that was boiling over the edge.

"No, Jonathan… the one who doesn't understand is you. God, you don't know what I'm going through. You don't even know what I want." He turned back to look at Jonathan. "This… this is torture. But it isn't just any torture – I'm torturing myself. I can't say a single thing that I want to say, and it hurts so much, Jonathan."

Jonathan bit down on his lower lips harder, his eyes beginning to water. Only a few words separated them from their future now, only a few sounds from his lips would change everything between them. A few words to lose Evan and break himself, or to break Evan once and for all. A few words to put their years' worth of friendship in peril. He loved Evan. He would throw himself in front of a car if that was what it meant to watch the man smile. He would break his heart to make Evan's whole.

He snapped his head up to look straight at Evan, a teardrop escaping the confines of his baby blues and running down his cheek as he did. It was the moment, the perfect moment. His voice broke and cracked at every syllable as it made its way through his reddened lips -

"Why can't you?"

Evan slowly lifted a hand to cup his cheek, gently thumbing the teardrop away, himself not too far off from tears. His eyes were glassy, and his expression spoke an endless sorrow.

"I… I just can't, Jonathan. I'm so sorry. I'm such a selfish bastard. Please don't cry, Jonathan. Not for this asshole."

As if by magic, his words summoned a torrent from Jonathan's eyes. He broke under Evan's touch, salty tears streaming down his soft, delicate features. He heard Evan's soft, broken cooing through barely suppressed sobs, urging him to not cry any more.

"Please, Jonathan," Evan choked through another sob, his warm palm never leaving Jonathan's face. "I can't do this. I'm so sorry…"

"It's not your fault…" Jonathan sobbed. "I shouldn't have – I shouldn't have started this…"

The moment was tender. The tenderness, however, failed to last. In a blur before their eyes, there was the sound of a door flying open, and a resounding smack landing on Evan's face. Sarah stood before them both, hurt contorting her face.

"I can't believe it," she seethed. "I knew everything was too perfect. I knew it was all too good to be true. I just – I just didn't know how it was."

"Sarah, listen to me –" Evan began, wiping his eyes hastily.

"Listen to what? You crying about how you don't get to be with Jonathan? How you don't want to be with me? Listen to what _exactly_ , Evan? I've heard everything I needed to hear!"

"It's not what it seems!"

"How is it not?" She challenged, her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes full and wet. "All this time, I've been going through utter hell, wondering if you still loved me, if you're marrying me just because you wanted to marry someone. And where were you? With _him_."

The venom seeped into the final word as though it was poison in her mouth.

"And all this time we've been dating, we've laughed, we've cried, we've shared all those moments together – and you've never did what you're doing for him _for me_ , Evan. How long is this going to go on for? Is it still going to go on even after we're married? What, are you going to fly down here every other month to spend your time with him while our love withers away, and then come back to have children with me? What on earth do you think I am to you?"

"I – Don't put words in my mouth – I would never do that!"

"Oh, but if I don't, would you ever have said it?!" She pushed further. She directed towards Jonathan. "And you! I trusted you so much. I readily thought of you as a friend, and this is how it goes! I wanted to ask you, to hear from you what you had to say about my troubles, since you knew Evan so well, and hey presto, I just had to find that the person he's throwing me away for is _you_. Damn you, Jonathan."

"Don't you _dare_." Evan defended darkly, danger creeping into his tone.

"Oh, I dare to, Evan, and you know it." Sarah shot back, tears flooding her features now. "It's over, Evan. You don't love me anymore. I know that."

She turned on her heel and rushed out of the door, leaving Evan standing there in the middle of Jonathan's bedroom, at a loss. After what seemed like an eternity, he turned mechanically towards Jonathan, whose eyes were wide open in shock, tears still streaking his beautiful paleness, and looked at him straight in the eye. The deep brown of his eyes were dead, almost drained completely of all emotion, and they bore into the blues painfully, heart-wrenchingly.

"I'm sorry, Jonathan. It can't be this way. It's not you. It can never be you."

His words held a tone of finality about them, and Evan vanished from his sight, leaving the room and the house empty, and his heart still, unmoving. Evan had left him, and he had taken his heart away with him. He was numb all over inside – hurt to the point where he could not feel any longer. Somehow, however, the tears still left the corners of his eyes. Somehow, he was still breathing, living and moving. He stared into the darkness of his room for a long while, before burying his wet face into the soft fur of the teddy bear that Evan had left him – the sole reminder of Evan's existence in his life.

As the fireworks were fired into the sky from multiple sources and split with a resounding crack like thunder in the middle of a storm, Jonathan lay still, listening his heart break numbly with every bang. As the cheers of 'Happy New Year' flooded all around his neighborhood, he quietly lay on his bed, a broken man. As the celebrations entered his house, with Luke and Hannah cheerily wishing him a Happy New Year in loud voices, he continued to lie there, drifting in a limbo. All he could last comprehend were shouts of worry from Hannah and Luke shaking him furiously in an attempt to get him to snap out of his catatonic state as the fireworks continued to break up and explode into a million different colors above him.

Underneath the rainbow of colors and flashes, he was suspended, in a limbo.

 _Is this what death feels like_?


	12. Chapter 12 - Aftermath

An array of colors burst outside the windows as Evan walked into the room. The deafening cheers of 'Happy New Year!' were drowned out by the heaviness of his thoughts and his heart. He had done the deed, broken two hearts in one go despite taking what he thought was the safest route by never letting his feelings show. One shattered heart left broken miles away behind him, and another sat in front of him, sobbing softly, twirling a shiny diamond ring between her fingers, admiring the last she could of its shine.

Without turning back, she addressed Evan.

" _I can't believe this is how it ends. With tears and us yelling at each other._ "

She turned towards him, her eyes bloodshot and puffy. " _Don't look at me like that, Evan. You cried for him. You couldn't resist his tears. You never cried for me. Even if you ever loved me… it's not enough. Not as much as you love him. Not enough to keep us together for a lifetime._ "

She stood up, all packed and dressed, ready to leave. She held out the ring to Evan and placed it in his hands. " _I'll move out the first thing when I get home. Goodbye, Evan._ "

She walked past him, out of the room, the door shutting with an audible click. As another set of fireworks burst in the sky, he wondered what he was doing, whether he was wrong all along. His world had collapsed before him, and everything that he had strived to build, the picture of perfection that he tried so hard to paint had crashed and burned. His world was burning away, as was he, yet he was numbed by fatigue, numbed by the heartbreak, numbed by the image of the heavy tears welling up in the beautiful baby blues. All he wanted was to lie down and sleep it all away, in the hopes that he would simply vanish from the face of the earth.

 _I have nowhere else to go._

Countless hours had passed since then. He had somehow managed to pull himself together enough to pack up and check out of the room they had rented together, and he had somehow managed to remain clearheaded enough to book a flight and make a call. He was going home, back to the very beginning of his life.

"You okay?" Derek nudged him gently, his eyes still on what seemed like a blanket of white ahead. "You haven't spoken a word since you landed, and you look like you might just collapse at any time."

"Yeah, bro… It's just… I don't know what I'm going to do anymore. The engagement's off. Sarah hates me now."

His brother shot a quick look at him. "Tell me about it. The Evan Fong I know doesn't just come back to Canada just because he got dumped."

Evan let out a heavy sigh. "It's not that simple."

"Hit me. You're not one to come home crying just because you got dumped, and Sarah's not one to lose her cool enough over something minor to dump you, so there's more to the story than you're letting on."

"I – just let me figure things out for myself, Derek. My head hurts enough as it is."

"Nope. On a regular basis, I'd hate to pry, but you've got to have screwed up big time to make Sarah that mad."

"And so I did."

"Did you cheat on her?"

"…Not really," Evan sighed again. "Somewhat."

"What do you mean, 'somewhat'? You either did or you didn't." Derek replied sharply, annoyance seeping through.

"Not physically. Maybe just… emotionally." Evan spat out hesitantly.

"Explain." Derek commanded. _Such a great time for him to be protective of others_.

"It's just that… maybe we never loved each other as deeply as we thought we did. Or rather, I didn't." Evan took a deep breath, shutting his eyes. "Because I think I've fallen for someone else."

A silence fell between the brothers as they drove on in the snow, with little flurries of white flying past the car as it coursed through the road. After a long, protracted pause, Derek was the first to break the silence with the first of his countless questions.

"This person… is worth giving up Sarah for?"

"I don't know." Evan breathed softly, thoroughly exhausted. Barely thinking through his words, he continued. "I wanted to say goodbye to him. I wanted to tell him that nothing was wrong, that I'm going to get married happily to Sarah, but I couldn't say it. I got all tied up between letting him know how I felt and lying to him."

"Huh," Derek snorted, amused and only mildly surprised. " _Him._ Is there something you want to tell me about that?"

"Does it matter? I've lost Sarah because I couldn't lie to him. And now I've lost a great friend because I couldn't tell him the truth." He cupped his pounding head with his hands, and released another year's worth of heavy sighs. "I'm a terrible person."

"You sure are. You're the worst douchebag on the planet, the most annoying perfectionist I have ever met." Derek's tone shifted, softening at the edges. "But you're changing, Evan. Don't you see? The reason why you're so troubled – you're starting to be really honest with yourself. You're starting to ask yourself what you _really_ want, Evan. Is that bad?"

Evan opened his mouth, and fell silent. It wasn't. The question was – what did he really want?

Derek chuckled triumphantly. "Man, I can't lie, it does feel good to see you a little out of sorts. I used to really hate you when we were kids, you know that? The two of us had a world of expectations to live up to, and you lived up to every single one of them perfectly. I, on the other hand, did every single thing wrong. It was always Evan this and Evan that, Evan the little mister perfect. Sucked a lot as a kid. It took me a whole lot of soul searching later on to make me realize that I was just a bitter fuck, and a lot more pondering to realize that you were happily living your lie."

He caught Evan's shocked glance at him, and laughed once more. "It's all in the past. I've moved on from that. I don't need to be better than you. And so it's time for you to move on, too. You don't need to be perfect anymore, Evan. There isn't any more need to lie to yourself and to everyone else. You're perfect as the fool that you are."

He made a turn into a snowy driveway, in front of a beautifully decorated house. The exterior was painted in beautiful combinations of red and white, with the snow complementing the scene. _Perfect_ , he thought to himself, smiling weakly.

"Mom!" Derek yelled as they both exited the car. "I've brought Evan!"

A small lady with dark hair opened the door after a moment's pause, her similarly brown eyes wide with anticipation. She shivered as the cold air hit her, yet did not falter in her reception of her sons. She took Evan into a tight, warm embrace.

"Oh, sweetie… it's been so long. You didn't even come home for Christmas…"

"I'm sorry, Mom."

"You look so tired. Is there anything wrong?"

"The wedding… it's off, Mom. Sarah and I broke up."

She brought him into a tighter embrace. "Poor dear. It's alright. We're all here for you."

Derek cleared his throat. "Enough catching up in the cold, Mom. I'll bring Evan to his room."

They proceeded into the warmth of the house, and Evan dragged his exhausted body up the stairs behind Derek, into a small plain room.

"We did what we could with the guest bedroom when we heard you were coming. It's not too pretty, but we made it as comfy as possible." Derek set down Evan's bags by the doorway, and patted him on the shoulder. "Look, I don't know what happened, but whatever it is, you've got to come clean with Mom and Dad about why you and Sarah broke up."

"They can't know, Derek. You know that. I don't want them to live out the rest of their days disappointed."

"Why _would_ they be disappointed, Evan? Sure, you didn't go down the path they wished you did, but hell, you're the most successful of all of us. Why should your preferences be a part of your equation?"

"It's not that." Evan bit his lip. "It's just… I need to figure all this out before I say anything to them, okay?"

"Need some help?" Derek smirked, preparing to leave the room. "I'll give you a place to start – that hockey camp you went to about ten years ago. Get some rest."

He shut the door, leaving a dumbfounded Evan in the room. He had tried his best to not think about or remember the hockey camp for the past several years – it made little sense to revisit the past. He sought a different source of help, a person that he had known for quite as long and who was willing to listen kindly and offer him advice. Eyeing his bag for a thoughtful while, he unpacked his laptop and started it up, twiddling his fingers as he hoped that he was available for a talk. A few green icons on Skype confirmed that he had the person he needed.

After a few dial tones, the call connected.

"Evan?" Brock started, confused. "What the hell happened? Luke said–"

"I messed up." Evan finished Brock's sentence. "I messed up and I ran away like a bitch."

"Alright, hold on a second for me." Brock replied distractedly as a message popped up in the group chat. The call was silent for a few seconds with the exceptions of the clicking of keys.

"Okay," Brock began again. "That should hold them off for a while. What happened? Luke said you were in North Carolina for a bit before the New Year, and then suddenly he's pissed at you. What did you do?"

"I messed up," Evan repeated. "I went there to see Delirious and I fucked up everything in my life."

"Evan, I don't think it's your fault. None of us do. Well – except Luke, but he's coming around slowly, although he still manages to stuff a curse or two whenever you're mentioned." Brock murmured softly, his tone as gentle as ever.

"Did Luke say how… how _he_ is now?" Evan mumbled, guilt creeping up on him.

"Luke says that Delirious is… well… zombie-like. Apparently he's eating a lot less, getting nightmares, all that. Will you please tell me what's going on? And don't just tell me that you messed up."

"Brock… is it stupid if I say… I think I've fallen for him?"

"Sounds reasonable, given how much you two have been at it for ages."

A gasp came through Evan's lips involuntarily. "What do you mean?"

"You guys have _no idea_ what we say about you two in a separate chat. I'm sorry – it was Nogla's idea, because you two were so close. I mean, it's normal for friends to be close, but you two… you two are almost _ridiculously_ close, and that's for two people who've met in person only recently. Hell, you even flew down to North Carolina for him."

Evan made a face at his screen. "He was severely injured and in a coma. I did what a friend would."

"We're all his friends, Evan," Brock reasoned, "but you left everything behind in L.A. just so see him. And you were pretty busy with the engagement, too. You just had to be with him."

He paused, and chuckled. "Besides, the two of you are like a romance novel waiting to happen. Think about it – on that day, Delirious could have found any other video, and he could have chosen to not contact you. He could've even chosen to contact someone else. But it was you he messaged, and that message didn't just bring a one-time collaboration, it brought years of – uh - _close_ friendship."

"I could say the same about us." Evan replied.

"It's not the same thing. You and Delirious have become so much closer than the rest of us have with you. All the small things – you two are on a different frequency that we're on, and he's the first person you go to and think of for anything, even when it's as simple as needing a laugh. We can all be online and you'll still ask him before any of us if you needed something. I know it sounds weird hearing it, but we've been talking about it for ages – just not in front of either of you."

Brock sighed. "I hate to make a speech, Evan, but it's not unbelievable that you like him more than you thought you did."

"You just listed a whole bunch of things friends would do," Evan retorted. As much as he disliked saying it, he allowed the small bits of doubt in his mind to take over. As much as he felt strongly for Jonathan, the idea that he _loved_ him felt absolutely surreal.

"No, I listed a whole bunch of things _you two_ have done. You think of him often enough, even when he's not there. Look, I'm not here to dictate how you two feel about each other, but I'm saying that there's more to you two than you originally thought. It's up to you to decide whether or not you've really fallen in love with him, Evan."

A long pause followed Brock's words.

"I don't… know what to think anymore." Evan admitted slowly. "Delirious is a really great person to be around. He gets me, and I don't feel like I have to be a certain way around him, because he's always goofy, always himself, and it feels great to have that..."

"You just want to know if he's worth it." Brock said, practically reading Evan's mind. "If he's worth throwing away everything you know and already love, if he's worth the risk and the insanity you're going through."

"If you were me… is he?"

Brock laughed softly. "If I were you, I'd be the happiest man on the planet already. I wouldn't be in your position now in the first place. But I'm not you, Evan. I can't decide for you how much I think it's worth – because boy, I think he's worth everything in this world and more."

* * *

Evan stared blankly at the dark ceiling above him. He had slept so much and so tumultuously he could barely sleepy any longer, yet his body was still heavy with physical exhaustion. The room was incredibly unfamiliar and plain, yet it held the same sort of familial warmth he had felt in his childhood. The fact that he was surrounded by family after such a long time away from them kept him feeling sane in a place of insanity.

He thought about the conversations he had earlier with Derek and later Brock, still confused by the comment about the hockey camp he had been in. _What has this got to do with that damn hockey camp_?

He thought hard for a long moment, parsing through countless memories of his younger, smaller self skating about, attempting to keep up with the older boys who were but blurs on the rink.

" _KEEP UP, FONG!_ " One of them yelled as he swerved through a multitude of cones with a graceful ease, and his heavy frame seemed to be made of air as he glided about effortlessly. Evan nodded hesitantly, unsure, and began to skate as fast as he could, maneuvering around the countless cones swiftly. His effort paid off for the most part, as he clipped the final cone slightly, ending his slightly less than perfect attempt.

" _Good job, Fong, but pity on the last cone,"_ The boy sneered harshly. _"How long have you been at this again?_ "

 _How embarrassing_ , he thought. " _Ten years in a few years down the road_. _I'm sorry, it'll be perfect the next time, I swear_."

" _It better be,_ " the older boy menaced, frowning. " _You're one of the smaller kids on the team, and if you want to play, you better make sure you're absolutely flawless._ "

Evan bit down on his lower lip, staring at his skates as the older boy skated away to yell at the other younger members of the camp. _Come on, Evan. It's nearly ten years. You should be better than everyone else here_.

" _Alright, gather round!"_ The coach yelled, and a throng of teenage boys skated towards the man. " _That was a good round all around, and I'm seeing good leadership and guidance from the seniors as well. We've still got a lot to work on, especially the newbies, so keep at it. You're all free to go take your dinner and wash up before having your free time, but the teachers want me to remind you all again that lights out is at 11P.M., so all of you are to be in your bunks and in bed by then! Dismissed_!"

The crowd scattered slowly, helmets and protective gear being plucked off bodies and the training materials being gathered up and cleared away from the rink. Evan trailed behind, still feeling slightly out of place as he overheard the older boys discuss, with him as the topic.

" _You know that Evan Fong? He's really good, even better than when I first came in._ "

" _Yeah. Sam was real hard on him, but I see where that's coming from. The expectations are so much higher given how well he's been doing."_

 _"A few more years and he'll be better than Sam himself. I think the man sees a diamond in the boy."_

 _"I just wish Sam wouldn't be so hard on all the kids though. He's almost overdoing it at this point. That kid Timmy looked like he was about to cry when he yelled at him."_

 _"Still, it was understandable. That's his kid brother, he probably expects a shit ton from the poor kid as well."_

 _"Dude, would you treat your kid brother this way? Kid's only trying out hockey for the first time in his whole life. He might not even want to continue after this. Sam needs to go jerk off or something, man."_

Muffled guffaws came from the group of boys before Evan. " _I don't think any amount of jerking off can make him less of an asshole, dude. Did you hear him last night?_ "

Even more muffled laughter came from the boys. Evan shifted uncomfortably past them, unwilling to listen further about the details of whatever they had heard. After a long day of training, all he wanted was to have some food – and not to lose his appetite even before he had started. He vaguely remembered in his sleepy state loud huffing and groaning from the other bunk the previous night – and for the whole day he had heard nothing from the older group other than whispers, suppressed laughter and expertly-crafted innuendos directed at the captain of the team. It took him less than half a day to put two and two together and figure out what had happened. It took him much longer to not think about what he had actually heard.

The cafeteria was packed by the time he had changed out of his gear and washed up, and by the time he managed to get his serving of food, almost all the tables were seated to their maximum capacities. All that was left was a small spot opposite to a small boy of his age with dark brown hair and extremely familiar facial features that were very much like Sam's. As he sat down opposite the boy, the name surfaced almost naturally in his head – _Timmy._

" _Uh, hi_ ," He began. " _Sorry if I invaded your space. There isn't much to choose from. Timmy, right?_ "

The boy looked up, surprised that he was even noticed. The features that were so incredibly harsh and tough-looking on his brother looked oddly adorable on him. His bluish-grey eyes were wide with a child-like loveliness about it, and his lips were parted in a small, yet almost perfect 'O'.

" _Uh, yeah. You're Evan._ " He replied, breathless with awe. " _Everyone's been talking about you. I've watched you too, and you're really good. A natural on ice._ "

" _Don't say that. I've been playing hockey since I was six. It didn't just come from nowhere. If everyone did the same thing, they'll probably be just as good_."

Timmy looked down at his food and played with the peas on his plate. " _I wish I could be as good as you are._ "

Evan looked at the boy and pitied him silently. He knew that tone and that expression well – it was an expression both he and Derek often made in their childhood, and it was a tone both of them used.

" _Why don't you tell Sam you don't want to be on the hockey team?_ "

Timmy drew his head up in shock. " _How did you…_ "

" _You sound the same as me and my brother when we were kids._ " Evan explained. " _There were so many things our parents wanted us to get into. I ended up enjoying hockey, but my brother hates it along with everything else he's been pushed to get into. So why don't you tell him_?"

Timmy started to play with his food again. " _It's worth a try. I just want to make him proud of me, but I can't even skate fast enough to please him._ "

Something lit up in Evan's head. He had a brilliant idea – or at least he thought he did.

" _Hey, Timmy,"_ he began. " _Since we have quite a lot of time before lights out, do you want to practice skating with me, then? I'll show you a couple of tricks and give you some tips on how to skate even faster._ "

Evan sighed, pulling himself away from the memory. There it was – the start of a friendship that ended too quickly. _I think you're right, Derek… I think that's where it might have started. Timmy and his skating troubles, Timmy and his sprained arm_ …

He stopped himself right there as another memory flooded into his head.

" _Ow_ ," Timmy whimpered as he nursed his right arm through his protective gear. " _It hurts_."

" _Hold still now…_ " The coach coaxed as he examined Timmy's wrist, pulling off the protective gear and revealing a swelling mound of pale skin. " _Hmm. It's a small sprain. How did this happen?_ "

" _We were practicing our skating together, and he slipped. I didn't catch him in time._ " Evan mumbled. It was all his fault – he should never have tried to help Timmy skate on his own.

" _Good thing you called me quickly. I'll go get an ice pack. In the meantime, keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't move the arm an inch. And make sure his arm is elevated."_ The coach shuffled off hastily.

When Evan returned his gaze towards Timmy, he was shocked by the sight of watering grey eyes. Tears were gathering in Timmy's eyes painfully, and he looked absolutely defeated.

" _Sam's going to hate me, isn't he?_ " He cried. " _I can't even do something he likes._ "

Evan would have found it laughable before if he heard of a boy his age crying his eyes out over a small setback. However, witnessing it actually happen and having the adorable boy unravel before his eyes had an entirely different effect on him. Knowing exactly how he felt added to the burgeoning feeling of helplessness that grew within him, and all he wanted to do was to comfort the crying boy. He watched as Timmy choked on his tears, trying his best to stop them.

 _"Oh, god, I shouldn't cry. Sam says I shouldn't…you'll laugh, everyone will laugh_..." He whimpered, and tried his best to wipe at the endless tears streaming from his eyes. " _There's a – there's some tissues in my pocket, could you – could you help me pull it out…?_ "

He hiccoughed softly through each sob as Evan reached into his pant pockets hesitantly, searching for the tissue packets. The act was wildly uncomfortable for some reason, and Evan felt as though he was intruding upon his personal space just through the act of touching him below the belt. He quickly pulled a small plastic pack out of the boy's pockets, and picked a nicely folded napkin out from the packet. Almost automatically, he began to use the tissue to wipe at Timmy's tear-streaked face gently.

" _Look_ ," Evan tried his best to sound reassuring, " _It's a small sprain. It'll ease up soon, and you still can do a bit of light practice in the meantime. I'll help. Just rely on me as long as you're here, okay? I'll be here for anything you need_."

 _Famous last words,_ Evan thought, blinking blankly at the dark ceiling once more. _Come to think of it… god knows what'd have happened to us if he didn't move away with Sam._

There was a knock upon the door, before it opened, allowing a blinding white light to penetrate the darkness of the room. His mother peeked in, unsure.

"Evan?" She called out softly. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah, mom." Evan replied, and sat up, pulling his weary frame into position. "What is it?"

"You slept through dinner, but I was afraid you'd wake up hungry. I brought some food for you." She entered, sidling through the dark. Her presence beside him was announced by a soft little thud as she settled a plate on the table beside him.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" She asked, gently cupping Evan's hands with her own. "You've been really out of sorts ever since you came. I didn't want to ask you what happened with Sarah, but… there _is_ more to it, isn't there?"

Evan sighed. "Did Derek say something to you?"

She smiled, her teeth glistening gently in the dim light filtering in through the draped window. "He tried. I wanted to hear it from you, your story entirely. There's a man, a friend…or, well, as I've heard, a man that's become more than a friend to you?"

"Mom…what if…what if I'm not the person that you raised, or that you and Dad wanted to raise?" Evan whispered. "What if I'm...?"

Her hands tightened on his, her delicate fingers squeezing his long ones tightly. "Does it matter? It wouldn't make us any less proud of you. You've done what we hoped you would have and more. You've grown into such a fine young man. Does it matter who you love?"

Evan looked at her sadly. "I don't know what I want anymore, Mom. I've always thought… and always chased after what I thought was the perfect life, the ideal life… but now… I don't know what's perfect anymore. He just shows up and destroys it all, and I don't even know if I love him... I feel like a sick bastard."

"Evan, sweetie." She looked at him solemnly. "I used to think I knew what was perfect, myself. I had an entire list of things I wanted to do – I wanted to travel, to see the whole world, all of it. I wanted to go everywhere, to get out of Canada and be all alone. I thought that was the perfect life."

"But you wouldn't have had me." Evan pouted slightly.

She laughed, and stroked her son's hair. "I wouldn't have had my beautiful baby boys, true. If I never met your father, I think I would've still been somewhere out there, going from place to place and never finding anywhere where I'd feel at home. He changed everything that I thought was perfect before whilst he tried to treat me to a taste of what was perfect."

She smiled at him, kindly and warmly. "You see, Evan, perfection changes. And sometimes you might find that life is imperfect, but there's always the beauty in that, and it's exactly what makes it perfect. Like you, for instance. You're more than what I would've asked for out of a son, but it doesn't spare you from being silly and unrealistic at times, and it certainly doesn't spare you from being afraid of yourself. But we love you all the same – the people around you love you all the same, because the way you are is just perfect for all of us."

It was as though she was lifting a heavy weight off his shoulders. He was still confused, weary and terrified, yet it felt like he was not alone where he was. He felt loved and cared for – and that was what he really needed in the moment.

"Thank you," he whispered, a small smile forming at the corners of his lips.

"Anything I can for my dear son," she replied as she stood up and stretched, stifling a soft yawn under her breath.

"Mom – one more thing," Evan asked quickly as she began to proceed out of the room. She turned back, curiosity upon her face.

"Is it okay if I stay here for about a month or two?" He asked. "I need some time to figure things out before I go back to Los Angeles."

"Sure… but in exchange," her smile turned adorably devious, "you'll have to tell me all about _him_ before you leave."

* * *

Weeks passed, with each day leaving Evan more and more restless. He surrounded himself with work and with his family to take his mind off his broken feelings with Jonathan and the impending doom that was the full impact of the heartbreak that was Sarah. He recorded and edited endlessly, and played songs on the guitar whenever he had any spare time. Derek would join in from time to time, offering him a blissful harmony to his songs. He would pour his heart out during these sessions, each note of the melody speaking every word he had left unspoken that night under the firework-filled sky.

Sarah was not completely gone from his heart. He would catch himself thinking about her every now and then, bits of him chipping away, before he buried his thoughts and feelings with work. He knew that it was not long before he broke.

It was not long before such an event occurred, in the middle of another jam session with Derek. He played a melody, humming softly under his breath, and the hums soon grew into words, poetic lyrics that spoke of a heartbreak. It was then that Evan broke – fully feeling the effects of having Sarah gone. He set down his guitar and buried his head in his hands, grieving softly as the music ended around him. He felt Derek's hand gently pat his head, consoling the crying man. It was the lowest point of his stay back in Canada, and the lowest point he had ever been all his life. He had nearly married someone he had loved dearly, and he had lost her in a flash. She had been so beautiful, so wonderful a match for him, and he threw her away carelessly.

"It's okay, Evan, it's okay…" Derek coaxed softly. "It's all over now…"

"She loved me, Derek… And I didn't love her enough to treasure her…"

"You _did_ love her, Evan, even a blind person could see that. But you love _him_ more, I can tell. The way you've been playing… it's not just Sarah that you're thinking about."

"I'm such a terrible person."

"Are you? You loved her, but not enough. And you found someone that you love a lot more while at that. You never made a move on him and you tried to stick to her. Is it a crime to let your heart take over, just once? Falling in love doesn't make you a terrible person, Evan."

He could have denied it in Derek's face, yelled and kicked and screamed like a little child about how he doesn't know what's going on with himself and how he's a terrible person for even considering Jonathan more than a friend in the first place – but he couldn't. With each passing moment, Jonathan seemed to turn up in his thoughts more and more, and the more he cried and let Sarah go, the more Jonathan's voice and his perfect blue eyes seemed to crop up in his mind. The further Sarah was, the closer Jonathan seemed to get, and the more he seemed to take over Evan's mind. It was almost as though Jonathan had always been on his mind from the very beginning, permeating his subconscious thought, masked only by conscious thoughts of Sarah, and he was only beginning to become aware of how much an influence the man had on him.

The pain had almost completely vanished over the course of a few more weeks. The snow still refused to let up, and the entirety of the compound was blanketed in white wet snow. Sarah was but a memory now, a memory that Evan could recall without sending his heart into pieces. Jonathan, however, was a persistent ghost that haunted his mind. The fact that his mother was constantly bringing him up and hinting at Evan to spill the beans about Jonathan did not help his situation.

"So, how is he like?" She pressed as she handed Evan a dish for him to dry. Evan dried it carefully, remaining tight-lipped.

"Aw, come on," she nudged him gently. "Go on about him. How does he look like, for a start?"

"Kind of small. In a way. Wild dark hair, soft blue eyes. Slight gap in his front teeth." He smiled to himself. "Kind of adorable in an odd, almost maniacal way. Thinks he's crazy but comes off really cute. Huge thing for teddy bears."

He heard a soft giggle escape her lips. When she finally caught his eye, she apologized.

"Sorry," She laughed. "You sounded so adorable when you described him. Like you can't resist going on about how amazing he is. That and you can't help but smile to yourself."

Evan felt the heat flood into his cheeks, and he turned deliberately, back to his mother as he dried the dishes and hung them on the rack. He heard another soft chortle from her at his reaction.

"Is he also as silly as you are?"

Evan stilled his hands and the towel over the plate. "Very. I think. He's slow at times, and he can sometimes be so silly and make so many mistakes that we'd all yell at him. He stammers and mixes up his words and nobody can figure out what he's saying at times. Eccentric, maybe. But beyond all that… he's so… _him_. He's so sweet and so generous, and so uniquely himself. Sharp and smart in his own weird way. He doesn't ever seem to get angry when we pick on him, and when he laughs, it's hard not to." _I could spend all day with him_.

"You're swallowing your words, sweetie," she pointed out cheerily. "He does sound like one special man. So much like and unlike you at the same time."

"I think he hates me now, though." Evan murmured under his breath sadly. "Sarah wasn't the only person whose heart I broke that day."

"How did it happen?"

Thinking about New Year's Eve was a straight stab through his heart. "He was all broken, and I wanted to console him so much…and Sarah saw straight through us. Broke up with me on the spot, and I took it out on him. Said some things I didn't really mean. I won't be surprised if he hates me now because of that."

As he dried and put away the final plate, he was turned around by small forceful hands to look at his mother in the eye. She was smiling, however, a confident, reassuring smile.

"I don't think he hates you. You said he doesn't ever seem to get angry. Even if he did and he exploded, he sounds like he's one to pick up the pieces as quickly as possible. What you did… might've been enough to hurt him. But if he's as sweet and as kind as you make him sound, he certainly isn't harboring hate for you."

Evan smiled back at her uncertainly, and he heard Derek snort from the sofa with his back to him.

"What?" He called out.

"Just listen to yourself. And this is the guy that _still_ isn't sure if he's in love with the person he's talking about. Nobody talks about how _cute_ and _adorable_ and _wonderful_ someone is in that tone without being in love with him. I don't even need to turn around to know that you're probably blushing."

"I'm not!" Evan raised his voice hotly.

"You certainly are, dearie," His mother called as she left him standing by the kitchen counter, lost for words.

Evan lay back in the bathtub, forming little balls with the soapy suds. The heat in his cheeks still hadn't faded – the conversation with his mother and his brother had left him completely speechless about his feelings for Jonathan.

He could almost feel the soft dark strands of hair moving underneath his fingertips as he scrunched up another ball of soapy bubbles in his hands. _Oh god, his hair. I washed his hair and it was smooth and silky._

A soft, satisfied giggle rang in his head. " _I feel like the most pampered person in the universe right now, guys._ "

He could see Jonathan's dark hair under the foamy mess that he had created. He was barely even washing his hair right – he simply ran his fingers across his head and massaged his scalp a few times before simply devolving into playing with Jonathan's hair subconsciously, leaving a mass of foaminess behind. The sight of the man nearly naked and wet with droplets of water clinging onto his brows and lashes was a deadly distraction for Evan. He caught his eyes wandering every few minutes, examining in detail the curvature of his facial features, the edges of his jaw as another droplet of water trickled down its side…

There was something, just something about his odd imperfection that made it all so adorable, that made it all so attractive.

He could have sworn that in that moment, breathing became instantly more difficult. It took all of the effort and control he could muster to keep himself breathing and his hands moving along the mass of hair. The little bit of what he could see of Jonathan's tattoo would have sent him straight over the edge if not for the fact that he was wary of Luke's eyes darting towards his form every now and then.

" _Alright, I'm done. Hurry up and finish, Evan, we gotta rinse him down now._ "

A whine could've escaped his lips just then as he pulled away from Jonathan. When the first jet of water hit and splattered towards him, he finally shook himself out of his mesmerized state.

Evan sighed softly, closing his eyes and submerging himself underneath the water. When he went under, he was not emptying his feelings like he did before, but allowing it all to overflow, to burst at the seams. It was an intense sensation, like warm liquid gold. It was a throbbing in his heart that he could faintly hear, growing stronger with each beat. It was a terrifying, thrilling feeling.

 _I'm in love with him_.

* * *

Thousands of miles away, things were very different. There was no warmth, no strong feelings of love. Countless nights and days had passed – the nights cold and silent, the days bleak and dour. The home that housed a bubbly personality had dimmed into a state of borderline disrepair, barely seeing any sunlight or strong light through the days. Shades and curtains were drawn, blocking the outside world out. The doors were barely ever open, and everything was almost always still. The life had been drained out of the house. Few individuals passed through the front door, and almost none made it back out without being affected by the deadly gloom.

The house was almost always quiet. Unlike before, there was no loud, crazed laughter, there were no screams of amused terror, and there were no yells of excitement or panic. Whispers occasionally graced the air along with soft coaxing from whoever still had the patience and the cheeriness to fight through the stifling negativity in the air. When whoever would still come left, the house was left quiet – almost always quiet, with the exception of the helpless half-yells and cries that would fill the air as Jonathan slept.

Nightmares had become a common reoccurrence ever since Evan had left. Perhaps the attack itself on Christmas would have made him dream of all these things, but somehow he had made it through perfectly before, being occupied with thoughts of Evan and how he longed to be with the man that had brought himself unbearably close. The moment the heartbreak hit, the moment Evan had left him there with a solid rejection the words that shattered him into a million pieces, he slipped into a place where nobody could touch him, nobody except the memories of his past that still haunted him and had begun to haunt him more fiendishly than ever.

It would always begin the very same way, in the very same place. He would trudge through the foliage, looking for the man he loved so dearly. Everyone had told him to stay away, heck, even Nick himself had warned him, in a beaten and bruised state – but nothing could keep the two apart. All it took was a note left in Jonathan's locker and a rendezvous in the darkness of the night for the heartbreaking apology to be made, for their hearts to take over their rational thought and their lips to wander across each other's. From thereon, a text the night before would send Jonathan hyperventilating, excited for the next night as he anticipated feeling Nick's lips against his and his hot breath against Jonathan's bare skin. He could barely wait to hear Nick's voice again, Nick's soft groans as he tried to pronounce Jonathan's name with his mouth pressed against his back.

That night was no different. A text the night before for a meeting in a wooded area – an odd place for a night of stolen kisses, but a secluded place nevertheless. He walked through the foliage, dried leaves and twigs crunching underneath his feet. Any moment now he would see the beautiful man that had defied his own brother to continue seeing him in secret, the man that risked it all – beatings, cuts and bruises – to see him. _Any moment now…_

The sound of leaves and twigs crackling behind him sent him turning around, looking for the source in the dark. Several crunches followed, coming from all around him, and a mild panic began to set in – _I'm surrounded!_

Several silhouettes appeared in the distance, most of them taller than he was. He had seen enough of people that size to figure out who they were almost instantly. As they closed in on him, faces increasingly illuminated, his suspicions were confirmed – these were Eric's teammates, Eric's people. It was a trap planted perfectly for him to fall into.

There was nowhere he could run – they were all too close. In the blink of an eye, he was shoved to the ground roughly by rough, forceful hands, and he knelt painfully on a bed of broken twigs. A pair of feet appeared under his gaze, and he let his eyes wander, lifting his head disgracefully to see the leader of the pack. Eric spat on him, and he flinched.

" _I told you to stay away, you fuckin' faggot._ " Eric's voice was deadly. " _I told you to fuckin' stay away from Nick_."

" _Why can't you let him be happy?_ " Jonathan asked. " _Why can't you just let him be? Why can't you just let us be? I'm of age, and he's of age too –_ "

The back of Eric's hand met his cheek with a resounding smack, and Jonathan felt the heat flood into the area as it stung.

" _Shut the fuck up, Johnny. We didn't call you out here for nothin'._ " He circled around Jonathan menacingly, like a lion about to pounce its prey. " _This will be your final warning, Johnny. Stay. The fuck. Away._ "

Jonathan felt a rough impact against his back, and he was thrown to the ground, face down, his mouth filling with dirt. He choked and coughed, and he heard the people around him scurrying to hold him down. He soon felt dead weights against his limbs, and his panic rose. He began to scream and thrash around in terror -

" _WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME?!_ "

He felt hands against his back, pushing away the layers of fabric that he wore. He felt the cold air hit the exposed skin on his back, goosebumps forming all over his body as he shivered – not simply in cold, but in fear as well.

" _This is a warning, Johnny. A warning the way we all do it. I've warned you the way you did it, Johnny. I tried being fuckin' nice, and you wouldn't listen. So no more Mr Nice Guy, Johnny. We're doin' it our way._ "

The small of tobacco that had been extremely faint from the beginning was growing stronger and stronger, almost as though a burning cigarette was being passed around close by him. He could smell the smoke emanating from the cigarette – pungent and stifling, burning his throat and his airways with each little breath he could catch.

" _Give him hell_." Eric's voice was raspy. His command sent Jonathan into pure agony for minutes, perhaps even hours at end. By the end of the beating, as Eric gave a shout to signal the end, he was battered, bruised, scratched and cut all over – but the agony was not over.

" _Just you remember, Johnny. You will always remember this warning._ "

He barely had any time to process Eric's words before a sharp searing pain began to invade his lower back. It felt as though he was being continually prodded by a relatively soft stick that was laced with strong acid, or as though he was being branded with a coarse, burning pencil. His back burned sharply, his screams growing more and more agonized with each rough poke. He was a canvas, and the marks were Eric's signature on him.

He could not tell when Eric had finished marking him. His eyes had filled with stinging tears by the time Eric dumped the now-smoldering cigarette nearby his face, and a final kick from Eric to his stomach solidified the deal. He coughed and retched and spilled whatever was left in his stomach onto the ground as a fog began to cloud his thoughts. He lay on the ground, limp and raw from the beating, his back still stinging from the burns.

The scene changed. He was no longer surrounded by trees, or lying on a bed of fallen brown leaves. Instead, he was surrounded by wet snow and bright colored lights, his entire body heavy and numb. Groups of people – police and paramedics alike – ran towards him, checking if he was alright, if he was still alive, but their faces had melted and molded themselves into variations of a face he had known so well, a face that he had committed to memory from all the pain it had given him. Multiple Erics, young and 0ld, surrounded him, sarcastic, hatred-filled grins plastered falsely upon their faces. Every tool pulled out to assist him looked vaguely like weapons meant to assault him and break him further, and every individual that came to assist him were but increasingly menacing, eviler versions of Eric.

It was always at this point that Jonathan would wake from his tumultuous slumber, yelling and screaming as his eyes fluttered open and darted about wildly around the room, searching for Eric, searching for help.

But he was always alone. His screams would die down into a haunting silence that lingered about his house. There was nobody there for him – not Luke or Hannah, not Jenn, and definitely not the person he needed the most, the person that kept his heart warm. He would sink back into bed then, defeated, afraid to close his eyes once more in fear of Eric's appearance in his head. He could not cry or express any ounce of emotion, but would allow the void in his heart to take over and suck him in.

The same had happened, once more. He had slept and dreamt of all the terrifying things that he could possibly dream of. He had awoken with a start, screaming and panting, body covered in cold sweat. He had taken a good look around before he sank back into bed and wallowed in the emptiness that was his life.

Except he wasn't quite alone. Moments after he lay back down, the door flew open as Hannah burst in, wide-eyed and concerned.

"Are you okay?" She squeaked upon seeing him staring blankly and pointlessly at the ceiling. "You were screaming…"

Jonathan did not make a sound, but simply shifted his head and stared at her with a dead gaze. _It's late. What on earth is she doing here?_

"Give up, sweetie, he's not going to talk." Jenn yelled from outside of his bedroom. "He obviously doesn't feel like living anymore, so what's the point?"

 _You're right,_ he thought silently. _I don't_.

"But… Just… just come in here for a bit." Hannah called back out, hazel eyes never leaving his. Jenn soon appeared by her side and was following her gaze towards Jonathan, who stared further at Hannah. As his eyes met Jenn's for the first time in forever, he shifted his gaze, turning it back towards the ceiling.

"Hey!" Jenn snapped at him, a demand for his attention. He continued to stare at the ceiling, refusing to respond to her.

She snorted in annoyance. "Right. Do that. Do that until you die. That'll totally heal all your wounds and that will totally bring Evan back to you."

Jonathan twitched slightly at the sound of Evan's name. _Oh, god. Evan._

His reaction did not go unnoticed, and Jenn continued further with her assault zealously.

"Oh, that's right. _Evan_. He's the only one that matters, isn't he? The only one worth thinking about. How would he react if he saw you like that?"

 _He wouldn't care. He's got bigger, better things to care about._

Jenn pressed on, unrelenting. "But oh no, ' _Evan's left, I better die now_!' – that's how you've been acting. I don't remember watching my brother grow up to be a spineless coward like that."

"Jenn…" Hannah piped up softly, clearly uncomfortable with her taunting.

"Honey, you're too meek, and if you're not going to toughen up a little, Luke and this asshole's going to end up bullying you and as someone who knows what that feels like, it's bullshit, so stick with me on this one."

Jenn turned back towards him, determined than ever.

"You're a coward, Jonathan, and you know it. You can't face your damn fears. None of your friends other than Evan and Luke know what you look like because you're too goddamn scared you'll lose everything personal and private you have to yourself –"

 _You don't know me._

" – And you're too goddamn scared to even step an inch out of your shell and fight back. When was the last time you got laid ever since you broke up with Liselle, huh? Could you even muster up the courage to go down to the nearest bar and bring a girl home with you for a one night stand?"

 _You don't know what I'm like._

"Could you even muster up the courage to let a man touch you the way Nick did before? No, because it's too painful to think about him? Because every other man reminds you of what you had with Nick? You're a coward, Jonathan."

 _You don't know what I've become._

"Oh, could you even bring yourself to _think_ – just _think_ – about even being with a man? When was the last time you thought about Evan, huh? When was the last time you thought about running your hands across his skin?"

Heat was beginning to boil away within the depths of his chest, bubbling away furiously and dangerously. _Don't you dare._

"Jenn… I think that's enough," Hannah urged softly, an unsteady edge in her voice.

"No, Hannah. It's not, not until he snaps out of it." Jenn asserted firmly, and directed her words towards him once again. "When was the last time you even thought of the possibility of Evan kissing you?"

Whatever boiled within him was beginning to spill over. He slowly turned, gravely, and stared at Jenn dead in the eye. Never had he wanted to hurt someone more, and never had he wanted to lash out at someone more. "Don't you fucking dare," he breathed, lips barely moving and his jaw mechanical.

A smug smirk grew upon Jenn's face. _Disgusting._

"When was the last time you even thought about even doing it with a girl, or better yet, say, having Evan ravish you until you go absolutely crazy, moaning and writhing underneath his muscular body?"

He snapped. The contents of the hot, angry emotion that had been boiling away spilled, spreading throughout his body and tingling through his extremities. It was singeing and searing away at his insides, an uncontrollable, irrepressible force, like fire through his veins. Words simply could not express how much he wanted to hurt Jenn, to make her stop talking about things he did not wish to hear and things that he must never think about.

He freed his right arm from his side and grabbed the nearest object he could find by his bedside – an empty glass, once filled with water for his medication. With a quick flick of his wrist, he flung the glass forcefully at his sister. In that instant, the fire burned further, angrier, yet a part of his mind, the sanity within him, screamed at him for doing such an act.

Fortunately, the glass flew past her, missing her and hitting the wall behind her, shattering and showering the two ladies with countless fragments of broken glass. Hannah squeaked in terror, but Jenn did not flinch.

"That's right. Do that. Throw more glasses at me. Hurt me, because you can't find another outlet for your pain and your cowardice. At least then you'll get angry and show some life, maybe think about Evan a little bit –"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" Jonathan bellowed, sitting up in his bed as he reached for another glass, flinging it forcefully at Jenn. He waited for the shatter, the break and the cry of pain from Jenn, and the silence that would ensue.

A cry of pain filled the air – however, it was not Jenn's, but Hannah's. Hannah had stepped out in front of Jenn, shielding her from the impact, causing the base of the glass to hit her shoulder blade and rebound towards the ground, where it shattered and flooded the floor with a stream of glass shards. Jenn's eyes widened, and a stream of endless murmured apologies escaped her lips as she gripped Hannah's body, supporting her as she slumped over slightly in pain.

The fire in his body burned still. It was a blind rage, fueled by nothing more than pain. He reached out once again, this time with the tray that once held the two glasses on the table in hand, and he chucked it as forcefully as he could at them, watching the two women wince as it landed near by them with a loud clang.

He would have hobbled over and jumped at them, and thrown a thousand more things at them just to make Jenn shut up, if not for Luke rushing in at the sound of the racket in the room and restraining him forcefully, yelling at him to regain his mind. He resisted fitfully, struggling against the man's vise-like grip.

"Let go," he growled out loud, his voice taking an almost demonic nature.

"I'm not lettin' go until you fucking stop your shit now, Jonathan," Luke growled, equally loud. "I don't care what fucking beef you have with Jenn and Hannah, but you don't fucking hurt them because of your own fucking issues, IS THAT CLEAR?"

"Let go!" Jonathan repeated once more, yelling this time around.

"No I will not!" Luke yelled back, as Jonathan thrashed about angrily, wanting the world around him to burn more than ever. In the middle of the chaos, a small palm came from nowhere and landed with a smack on his face. From his peripherals he saw Hannah, a hand raised, chewing on her lower lip as Jenn released her grip on her onto the bed. She had slapped him, and with the slap, the fire inside him became a small flicker of flames that muted itself and died out. What remained in its wake was a broken barrier that threatened to give way at any moment. He stilled, the shock rolling through his body.

Tears were gathering in her sad eyes. "Do you have any idea… _any idea_ how much we've been worrying about you, wishing you would talk to us, respond to us? Do you have _any idea_ how much we wished we could do more for you, how we wished we could make everything alright? You're not the only one in pain, Jonathan, you know that. It hurts watching you be like this, too. I'd bet Evan is in pain, too. Nobody asked for this to happen. It's not your fault or Evan's fault, but neither is it Luke's or Jenn's, so please, Jonathan, for the love of god, _stop_."

The ruined barrier in his heart gave way to an ocean of tears. For the first time in countless weeks, he cried like an inconsolable child, sobbing, hiccoughing and blubbering. Luke's grip on him had loosened, and he felt arms around him, holding him as sobs broke throughout the room as well. It was an odd feeling to have multiple people crying with him, _for him_. It was an unfamiliar, yet endearing feeling, warm to the touch.

"I'm sorry," he choked out through sobs. "I'm so sorry, all of you."

Jenn wiped at his face gently with her own hands, her own eyes watery. "It's alright, Jonathan. It's all fine now. Let it all out. If anything… I should be sorry. Sorry for provoking you."

"And I should be sorry for slapping you, Jonathan. So please, don't be sorry." Hannah whispered, gently caressing his hair. "We're doing all we can to heal."

"Alright," Luke sniffed, and wiped at his face quickly. "I'll, uh… clean up the place. Save a little bit of him for me."

Luke left the room, evidently still a little affected, leaving the three in a warm group hug that he greatly cherished.

"Jenn?" He whispered weakly.

"Hmm?"

"I feel like a damn jinx."

"You're not."

"I broke you and Luke up. And then I broke Evan and Sarah up."

"If you were, I wouldn't be here because you'd have broken me and Luke up as well." Hannah softly assured.

"Yeah. It wasn't your fault. None of this was your fault. So could you please just let us take care of you properly? Please?" Jenn pleaded.

Jonathan nodded slowly and wiped the last of his tears on his comforter. He was not alone, not anymore. The quiet had receded into the shadows and the darkness was beginning to fade. Once the room was all cleaned up by Luke, the four curled up like little puppies on the bed, side by side, quickly falling asleep in sheer exhaustion. The act was strange, yet it provided with a sense of comfort knowing that he was not alone. He shut his eyes momentarily, watching as the countless faces of Eric in his head vanished slowly, bit by bit, into nothingness. As long as they were there with him, the ghost of his past could not haunt him. There was one final piece of the puzzle missing, one final person that would make sure that he never fell back into that dark place again.

Evan.

As his friends and sister slept on beside him, he prayed silently that he would see Evan again soon. He prayed for the strength to continue staying beside Evan, supporting him, and the strength to keep moving on, whatever Evan felt of him. Most of all, he prayed for a miracle.

* * *

 _Chapter 12 is here! I feel bad for this chapter, really, I felt like I could have done better, but I'm not sure how. All I wanted was to connect the dots together and things just fell in place like this. Either way, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and while I'm at this - I have to ask: Should I include smut in this story? I've been debating this question for sometime now, and I still don't have a solid conclusion on this, so I need some suggestions. I'm looking forward to writing chapter 13, and I'm sorry if I'm taking too long!_

 _-delmin_


	13. Chapter 13 - Reconciliation

"Did your brother ever tell you why he mentioned the hockey camp?" Craig asked as he taped up another box.

"I tried to ask," Evan answered. "Asshole was still being vague about it, but I think I've gotten the gist of it."

"Uh-huh?"

"I met a kid that I got really close to for a period of time there. Like… abnormally close. Of course, I didn't think of it that way at the time. Kid moved away with his brother after some time, and I just moved on."

"How abnormal?" Craig pressed, grinning to himself.

"Ugh. Like… showers together and stuff like that. I don't want to think about it."

"Bet he must've looked like a small Delirious." Craig laughed softly. Evan shot him a dark look.

"What?" Craig retorted. "It's just a wild guess. Somehow that guy is hitting all your buttons and you happened to have had the gayest friendship on the planet with a guy just as you were discovering yourself."

"I said I don't want to think about it, man. That was all in the past. From thereon it's been girlfriends."

"Except now." Craig pointed out. "The way I see it, you've always kind of liked men physically. Not as much as you like women, but Delirious hits all your buttons – he's cute, crazy, has a sexy-ass tattoo and he knows you inside out. You love that, and that's got to come from somewhere."

Evan fell silent, and silently taped up a final box, his way of acknowledging Craig's words. His time and friendship with Timmy had been short, but somehow, once Derek put him to thinking about it, he couldn't help but feel as though little Timmy had everything to do with his attraction towards his best friend. There would be moments where the boy would be so absolutely vulnerable that Evan felt the need to protect him from all of the world's woes, to go closer to him than any regular friendship would allow. There would be stolen glances at a body that was not his, and a strange sort of joy and pleasure that arose from that – a feeling that he had learnt to suppress very well especially around his teammates. _Was I already in love with men back then?_

"Either way," Craig continued, interrupting his thoughts. "It's great to have you back here. I'm sure Canada was a blast, but I've really missed having you here."

"Don't get your hopes up, man, I came back just to move out. I can't live here – well, at least not in this apartment anymore. Not while I can feel _her_ here." Evan sighed softly, and settled himself on the ground where the sofa once was. "Sometimes I really miss her."

"Do me a favor, dude. Keep a rough count of how many times you think about Sarah, and then another count of how many times you think about Jonathan." Craig challenged, annoyance coloring his tone. "You'll be surprised. Anyway, if we're done, I want a good night down at a bar with my buddy before you run off elsewhere and I take off for the UK after PAX."

Evan blinked at him, confused. "You're going back to the UK?"

Craig rolled his eyes at him. "I said it multiple times before, Evan. Both in the group chat and to you but you were too busy thinking about Jonathan to care. Can we go now?"

The bar was packed, almost too packed for the time of the year. It became clear within moments that there was a sort of bachelorette party going on, with countless women by the bar, carrying multiple glasses of drinks over to tables in one corner of the bar, where another woman was being cheered on loudly by her friends as she downed another glass of alcohol. The two struggled to squeeze through the bar.

When they finally got themselves some beers and settled themselves down in another, quieter corner of the bar, they toasted each other.

"To life and love."

"To life and love," Evan repeated, and took a nice, yet hesitant sip of his beer.

"Oh, man," Craig moaned. "It's been so long since I hung out with you and had a good drink. I'll miss it more when I go back."

"Yeah, I kinda missed this too." Evan replied distractedly. He hadn't had a proper drink of alcohol ever since the time at the beach house months ago, with Luke grumbling by the poolside and him, Craig and Jonathan acting like silly drunkards. It was possibly the only time he had truly let himself go ever since he had seen Jonathan for the first time, and the one time that he had gotten incredibly close to the man. It hit him then that his mind was wandering towards Jonathan already, barely an hour since Craig challenged him to keep track. _One_.

He saw Craig smirk at him. "What?"

"That's one for Delirious, isn't it?" The damn smirk on his face grew.

"How the…"

"You had the dumbest look on your face, for goodness' sake. The same damn look whenever you thought of him back at the beach house, like you were really spaced out and focusing on only one thing in the world. I didn't quite realize what it was until Luke pointed out to me where you were looking half the time."

Evan almost couldn't breathe. "How… how obvious was it?"

Craig knit his brows together, thinking. "Not quite at first. Somewhat once you start noticing. Very since we know you well."

 _Damn. No wonder Sarah was on the edge. Oh, one._

"Tell me something, though." Evan began, changing the subject to the next topic on his mind. "I'm kind of worried about… about _him_. I haven't heard anything from him or from you guys about him for the past few months." _Two for him_.

"Oh, uh. Nothing much. Luke says he's a little better. He should be getting his casts taken out soon."

He watched as the color drained slightly from Craig's face, almost as though he was holding back a barrage of information. He wanted to ask a lot more, but not before Craig excused himself suddenly to go to the bathroom. He stood quickly and violently, walking headfirst into an extremely familiar head of long, light brown hair. The impact sent a drink spilling all across Craig's front as well as onto their table.

"Oh, god, watch where you're go-" She stopped in her tracks as her wide grey eyes met Craig's.

"…Craig?" She whispered, and whipped around to look at Evan. "Evan?"

Evan cautiously met her eyes, brown on grey. "Uh. Hi. Long time no see, Sarah."

Craig blinked furiously, and quickly excused himself from their presence, his shirt dripping wet.

"May I?" Sarah motioned to Craig's seat, and settled herself down as Evan nodded. "So, it's been…what, two months now? How have you been?"

"Slowly getting better," Evan answered, feeling the tension in the air coursing through him with every breath he took. "What brings you here?"

"I could ask you the same. Friend of mine is having her bachelorette party here. Wandered away because I think I'll pass out if I have another glass of martini." She giggled, the flush in her cheeks more evident than ever.

"Is that why you'll still talk to me?" Evan asked cautiously. "I thought you'd still hate me."

He peeked over to the other corner of the bar, where the bachelorette party was centered around. _That could've been her,_ he thought to himself. _She could've been celebrating her last night of her unmarried life here with all her friends around her._

"Maybe," She laughed further. "The alcohol sure is helping, but believe me, Evan, I've moved on. No matter how much it hurts or sucks, I've got to. My friends have been helping me out so much with that, and there's no way I'm going to let their efforts go to waste just because you magically appear back in L.A. But enough about me. How are you and Jonathan?"

"He's… fine, I think. I don't know." Evan paused, taking a long sip of his beer and allowing the alcohol to burn through his insides. "I think he hates me, now."

"Really, Evan?" She cocked an eyebrow. "Loosen up a bit, geez. If I don't hate you after all that I've been through, he doesn't, either. I lost the most perfect man on the planet that I already had, you know."

She looked around, and snuck a drink of a passing tray playfully, taking a large gulp as she settled back down. "God, stop being so perfect, Evan. That's what broke us up."

She hiccoughed slightly, before she continued, her words beginning to slur. "Do you know how perfect you are? God, I spent so much time trying to keep up I think I lost myself in the act of being one half of the 'perfect couple'. I didn't even know who I was anymore, Evan."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be! You're making it so difficult for me. Oh, goodness. I spent a good amount of time trying to paint you as a despicable liar and a loser in my head, but truth is, you aren't. You're so _perfect_ , so _flawless_ and that's what's wrong with you. It's disgusting. Then I saw how Belinda – that's her getting married tomorrow – and her fiancé were like. No expectations to live up to, just two people happy to be themselves, happy to be with each other. You and I were like a nightmare in comparison."

A cheer erupted from the other corner of the bar, and a lady whom Evan presumed was the bride-to-be stood up and clambered on top of her seat, flailing her arms about wildly as she danced to an unknown beat.

"Just look at her," Sarah crooned. "Unrestrained. She's going to do so many things and say so many things she's going to end up regretting. She's going to get a hangover tomorrow morning and look like an absolute mess but she doesn't care. It's her day, and she's taking over it. I can't do that. Not with you. Not when you're this absolutely perfect freak that I have to keep up with."

"I'm a damn loser, Sarah, and you know it. It's why you dumped me." Evan asserted miserably. "Look at me! I couldn't admit that I liked a guy. I couldn't admit the smallest hint of bisexuality. I couldn't admit that I had issues, insecurities. And I gave up a woman that could've made my world perfect."

Sarah scoffed. "You didn't. _I_ dumped you, Evan, not the other way around. _I_ gave up the man who could've made my world perfect. But you know what, Evan? Perfection doesn't exist. You showed me that. You were everything that was perfect, and you destroyed that image I had of you in one go. So you know what? I don't need you. I don't need perfection. Somewhere out there, there's going to be someone that shines brighter than you. Or maybe I don't even need anyone at all."

She took a sip from her drink again. "So you know what? Maybe you're a loser. The perfect loser. And I'm the stupidest woman on Earth to have fallen for that façade." She raised her glass to him, as if in a toast.

"Cheers, Evan. To finding our true selves again. To being losers. To being idiots."

Evan hesitated, before he raised his beer bottle, their glasses clinking loudly upon contact. He drank, downing the remaining contents of the bottle in one go. Sarah's reappearance in his life was a shock to his system, yet her words provided him with the closure he needed. He was a regular man, imperfect, losing in his attempt to be absolutely flawless. In the end, he was just a normal person. A person that was starting a whole new journey in his life after going nowhere with his first.

"How wasted are you ladies intending to get?" Evan asked.

"Very. As much as possible. Why?"

"If Craig's fine with it, I'm thinking of doing that, myself. It's been so long since I did."

Sarah smirked. "You've changed, haven't you? Trying to make yourself a public nuisance now?"

"You've changed, too. So it's time I started."

She smiled a brilliant smile at him, one that never failed to stun him. "Evan, listen. Well, listen before the alcohol kicks in for the both of us and I pass out while you forget what I say. Whatever happens, whatever happens between you and Jonathan, always remember this – rule number one of the heart, never lie. Not to yourself, or to him, or anybody. Always be yourself, and true to yourself. Be perfectly imperfect. Whatever it is, the best people will love you for who you are and who you always will be."

When another bottle of beer came his way, they toasted once more, the beginning of a long, insane night of drinking, partying, spouting incomprehensible nonsense – the perfect send-off to a past that they were all happy to leave behind and a welcome to a future that awaited them.

* * *

The sky was clear, a beautiful, soft shade of light sky blue. The sun had hid itself behind countless clouds, and a cold breeze blew as each wave of the sea crashed in gently, making a soft, calming rustle against the relative silence of the beach.

Jonathan sat atop a tall rock – the very same he used to sit on when he was a child, whenever he wanted to watch the people swimming or the waves crash in as it always did. The water kept him calm, it was like a momentary solace in the never-ending fluster that filled his life. There was a serene beauty in the deep blue stretched out towards the horizon before him. Not many people came to the beach in the early portions of the year what with the cold, and the relative lack of people provided him with the quiet that he needed so much.

Months had passed since the attack. Months had passed since Evan had left him. A little more than a month had passed since he broke down like a little baby and cried in front of Luke, Hannah and Jenn. In the time that had passed, he had stitches taken out of his body and casts taken off. There was no longer a weight on his body like he had before, yet a weight still lingered on his mind, hanging over him.

 _"I'm sorry, Jonathan. It can't be this way. It's not you. It can never be you."_

He sighed softly into the wind, a small cloud of smoky vapor puffing out from his lips. He did not hate Evan, neither did he blame Evan for what had happened. Perhaps Evan hated him – he could live with that. But no matter how much his heart ached, how much he loved Evan deeply, the fact was that he had been rejected by the man. Evan did not want him – not as a potential lover. And he hated himself for that.

Everybody had told him it wasn't his fault. He understood that he did nothing wrong. He understood it all perfectly, but he still hated himself. He hated his life, and how nothing ever seemed to go his way. At least, nothing in his love life ever did. It was almost as though his love story was written to be a tragedy. Bitterly, he picked up a few small pebbles by his side and chucked it at the sea, watching ripples form on the surface of the deep blue water as another wave crashed in.

What else was there left for him to do but to pretend that nothing happened, and that he was just a friend to the man that he loved so dearly? It would fix every single thing. Evan could go back to his own life of perfection, and whatever had separated them for months would cease to exist. They would just be friends, just like how they had started out. It would break his heart, but it would make Evan's whole.

"Thinkin' about that perfect man?" Luke called out as he settled down beside him on the rock. He handed Jonathan a bottle of water, which he accepted readily.

"How do you even know such things?" Jonathan murmured after swallowing a mouthful of cool water.

"You had that spaced-out look on your face that you have whenever you think of him." Luke explained, laughing as Jonathan consciously reached towards his face in response.

"Is it bad if I still think he hates me?" His voice was but a soft tinkle in the wind. "I know it's not my fault… but… he lost all he had because of me. He could've been married to Sarah by now, but I ruined it for him."

"You didn't ruin anything for him. Just like how you didn't ruin anything for me and Jenn back then, either." Luke stretched out his legs and looked up at the sky above them. "He didn't cheat on Sarah with you, and all you did was to love him. How is that your fault?"

"Even if he didn't hate me… he doesn't want me. He made it very clear when he left." He stretched out his legs as well and lay back his body against the rock, staring at the clouds above.

"Chances are, he didn't mean it. And even if he did, you'll just have to move on. It's the story of everyone. Just like how you thought Nick was everything back then – and then you still moved on. There's no use wastin' your time and your life pining away when you can do better things. And even if you are going to, you can't, because eventually, you'll move on without knowing it. That's life."

"It never really felt like I ever moved on completely from Nick, Luke." Jonathan warned darkly. _I still have dreams of him every now and then._

Luke glanced down at Jonathan. "Whatever it is, you've got to move on this time, whatever Evan really feels about you. I don't ever want to lose you to the demons again, Jonathan."

The two men exchanged a momentary tender look, before Luke looked away, into the horizon, and took a deep breath, and let out a soulful howl towards the sea. The howl subsided into nothingness, and Luke caught his breath, panting.

"That was a good load off the chest." He murmured. "You try it."

"What? I – I don't…" Jonathan protested quietly.

"Try it. Scream 'Eric sucks' or something. Or 'Go to hell, Eric!'."

"Luke, I can't." Jonathan protested. "It's not going to –"

"GO TO HELL, ERIC! YOU SUCK!" Luke yelled over Jonathan's soft protests. "Come on, Jonathan."

Jonathan sighed, and sat up to face the sea. He took a small breath, and barely screamed. "Go to hell, Eric. You suck!"

"Louder! Like you mean it."

"GO TO HELL, ERIC!" Jonathan suddenly hollered, feeling the air push itself out from the depths of his chest. "YOU SUCK!"

Luke was right. Almost instantaneously he felt a load being lifted off his chest. There was a strange sort of comfort to dishing out his pain like that, and he embraced it with another heartfelt yell to the waters.

"See?" Luke grinned at him. "It's so much better, isn't it?"

Jonathan nodded. The ease in his chest was undeniable. There was, however, still a small load on his chest that lingered, the most important load. Words that he could never bring to say in front of Evan at all costs, no matter what happens, as long as he treasured whatever little was left of their connection and friendship.

"There's more, isn't there?" Luke's smile faltered slightly, warping into a grimace. "Get it off your chest, then. No use buryin' it now, is there?"

Jonathan stared into the horizon quietly, and whispered into the wind. "I love you, Evan. I love you and I'm sorry." _But if you want, we can just be friends, just like we always have been_.

Luke looked at him with a sad smile on his face. He did not encourage him to yell the words out, or push him to go further, but simply patted his shoulder and murmured something about waiting for him in the car when he's ready to go.

The wind changed direction, blowing into the sea. Jonathan shut his eyes, feeling the wind caress his skin and blow through his hair. He imagined his whisper being carried by the wind and to Evan, settling in his ear just so he knew what Jonathan felt for him, just so Jonathan would never have to say it to him and ruin what they had.

Hours later, after a long, quiet drive back to Jonathan's place with only a small deviation to pick up some pizzas for lunch, the two men sat on the patio of Jonathan's house, eating hot, still steaming pizza in the cold. The entire event was completed with numerous blankets wrapped around their bodies as well as warm glasses of hot tea.

"We should do this more often," Jonathan sighed in satisfaction as he polished off the last of his pizza. "Hot food in the cold."

"Yeah," Luke sighed in agreement, leaning back on his chair. "How did you discover this gem of an activity?"

Jonathan shrugged, holding the blanket closer to his body. "Just an idea that I tried with Liselle once. Food got cold real quick, though."

Luke raised a brow. "You've still been seeing her?"

"Not since months ago. It was sort of like… a farewell meeting. It's all over now."

"I'm glad it is." Luke took a sip of the steaming hot tea. "Was about damn time. You two were a fuckin' train wreck."

"We were. Looking back, it feels weird that we even took that long to realize it ourselves."

"Hmm." Luke hummed and took a large bite of his pizza slice. "Are you free tonight?"

"Yeah. I'm not recording anything much. Why?"

"Hmm, nothin'." Luke pursed his lips tightly.

Jonathan frowned. "You're being really secretive these days, you know that? It's really unlike you. What's going on?"

"Like I said, nothing much!" Luke insisted, and busied himself with distracting Jonathan, by taking Jonathan's hot tea and downing it in one go. He choked as the hot liquid scalded his lips and tongue, and he was left sputtering and spitting.

"Serves you right, bitch." Jonathan snorted.

In the distance, a silhouette appeared amongst the white of the snow, dressed in a long white overcoat. The figure slowly strolled towards the compound, almost as though it was hesitating, afraid. As Jonathan's attention was brought to the figure, there was almost a sense of familiarity with the poise of the person, as well as the way the person was built. Jonathan blinked and frowned, trying to make out more of the figure.

The figure started to close in on the patio, coming closer towards Luke and Jonathan. His features became a lot more visible – gently tanned skin, black hair and dark olive eyes. There was an incredible familiarity in these features, yet the familiarity was disrupted by the darkness under the man's eyes as well as the man's pallor complexion. Walking towards them was a man who had suffered for years on end. Walking to them was a man Jonathan had known many years ago, the man who had first broken his heart. Jonathan felt his heart twist into a little tight ball in his chest.

Luke followed Jonathan's gaze towards the man, slowly piecing the puzzle of the man together. "Son of a bitch," He growled.

"What are you doing here?! Who gave you the directions?!" Luke yelled and stood up in a shaking anger, causing the man to still frightfully just at the steps of the patio.

"I… I just want to talk to Jonathan," Nick croaked, his voice hoarse and low. "Please, Luke. I just want to talk to him."

"After what you did to him? After leavin' him to get destroyed by your brother? After throwin' him away once you were done with him? No chance, pal." Luke growled, danger seeping into his voice. "Go away. _Now_."

"Please, Luke." Nick pleaded. "Just a word with him. I need this. He needs to hear this, too."

"No. Get. Out."

Luke's hand was balled up into a tight fist, quivering with fury. Jonathan gently took it into his hand, coaxing the angered man with his own touch.

"Luke," he whispered softly as Luke turned over to him. "It's okay. I'll talk to him."

He watched as the dark rage in Luke's eyes threatened to spill over. "But he –"

"It's okay." He returned Luke's gaze with a small reassuring smile. "I'll be fine. Look, you finished my tea. Go make me another cup."

Luke stared at him for a long moment with large, disbelieving eyes, before he finally turned and walked back into the house, evidently dissatisfied with the arrangement. When his footsteps and grumbles faded out of Jonathan's earshot, Jonathan turned back towards the man still standing in the snow, and gestured for him to approach. Nick walked up the steps of the patio, towards Jonathan, and softly mumbled out for permission to sit where Luke once sat, before settling down next to Jonathan on the patio quietly, biting his trembling lips and at a loss of what to say.

"What is it?" Jonathan asked amicably. "You said you had something to say to me, so say it."

"You still look…really pretty." Nick began. "Your eyes are still the crazy blue just like back then."

"You came here to say that?"

"No, no!" Nick raised his voice, flustered. "I just… I just didn't know how to start. I'm sorry, really. It took me so long to find you. I've looked everywhere for you. Every time I thought I'd found you, you were already gone. I thought I'd never see you again. Then I found out that Eric got to you again."

"I don't need you to pity me." Jonathan brushed him off coldly, the friendliness draining from his voice. "I'm up and running and there's nothing wrong with me now."

He watched as the man wrestled with his words. "No, no… you're in good shape, I see- I see that. It's… it's how I found you. It wasn't easy to convince the nurse to tell me where you lived."

Jonathan harrumphed quietly. _What do you want, Nick? Why do you have to re-appear in my life now, of all times_?

Nick cleared his throat, and continued. "I'm so sorry Eric did this to you, Jonathan. I'm really sorry."

"Except it happened, and I'm good now. So there's that."

"No, Jonathan, listen. I… I _wish_ it didn't happen. I wish you didn't have to go through that again, to face Eric again and to have him – have him beat you up again!" Nick cried out loud. "If I could've stopped him, done something different just so you didn't have to get hurt, I would have."

"But you couldn't. It happened. That's that, Nick. You couldn't have changed a single thing that happened that day, just like how you couldn't do anything about that night years back." Jonathan retorted.

"I could've –"

"You couldn't have, Nick." Jonathan interrupted. "You couldn't. You couldn't change him for who he _was_ and you can't change him for who he _is_. Besides, what's the point of saying that you 'could have'? You can't change history. What's happened has happened. You can't turn back time and try to change who we are today. You can't change the fact that we weren't meant to be. You can't change the fact that Eric beat both you and I to shit to stop us from being together." _You can't change the fact that I loved you so dearly, or the fact that you left me in the lurch, all alone by myself, and that still hurts today_.

Nick fell silent at his words, wringing his hands together and fiddling with his fingers nervously. He looked utterly lost, as though he did not know what to do or to say, and with every harsh breeze that came by, he shivered underneath his coat. He finally spoke again after what felt like a long while.

"I… I'm just really sorry, Jonathan. I know this is hard to do… but, please… go easy on Eric. You saw what happened to him after he went into jail the first time. He shouldn't go in again."

"That's not for me to decide. You can beg me all you want, but I can't stop it if the judge decides that he's bad enough to go back into the hellhole."

"Just a good word will do, Jonathan." Nick begged, his mesmerizing dark eyes piercing Jonathan's. "He's all I've had ever since our parents separated. He's not a bad person – he was just worried for me."

"Maybe not back then. But now? Did he trash me because he was worried for you on Christmas Day? He's not good, Nick. He's a lost cause. Let him be."

"I can't let him get worse. I can't lose him – I can't lose anyone anymore, Jonathan!" Nick half-yelled, eyes clouding over with wetness and his body shaking from the sheer agitation. "I can't – not when I've lost everyone else around me, not when I've already lost _you_!"

The tight ball in Jonathan's chest twisted itself tighter, sending surges of throbbing, excruciating pain throughout his system. It was but a reprisal of his original heartbreak, one that he had never gotten over, and desperately needed to get over now. He had to let go, to think about something else, and hope that the ache would eventually fade.

There was a question he had been dying to ask – a question that had formed over the countless weeks of recurring nightmares. There had been nobody that could answer his questions, and he saw the opportunity in the silence that they had together. He had a strong feeling he had the right person at the right time.

"Nick." Jonathan spoke, addressing the man next to him after another long pause. "Tell me something."

Nick looked up at Jonathan, his dark eyes hopeful, yet wary.

"That night…ten years back. There wasn't anybody that knew where I was except Eric and the rest of the football team. Neither Luke nor my sister knew where I went, and I knew that Eric and the rest left when I passed out in the woods. How did I get out?"

Something shifted in the man's dark eyes, and the wariness as well as the weariness gave way to a tenderness that seemed to burn up inside of him. Nick remained silent, biting his lip once more, and at this point Jonathan knew – _it was him_.

"You were there," Jonathan breathed, vocalizing his realization. "You were there that night. How?"

"Eric wasn't… thorough with covering up what he was going to do." Nick admitted slowly. "I saw the text and I knew what I had to do. And… I really wanted to stop it from happening, believe me, Jonathan, but I couldn't. It hurt so much to see you in pain, to watch all that happen to you, to hear you scream… but I couldn't pick up the courage to stand up to them, not after how Eric beat me to shit. I really wished I did."

Nick sighed, a small puffy cloud of vapor escaping his lips. His eyes were watery, shimmering as the light hit it. "I hid like a little bitch, out of sight as my lover got beaten up by my brother. I don't know how you'll ever forgive me for this, Jonathan. I don't even know why I expect you to listen to me."

He would have been angry. He would have been outraged that Nick let it all happen. But there was something more, something that kept him perfectly calm. He wanted to know more, and the curiosity drove him forward.

"You sent me to the hospital, didn't you?" Jonathan probed further.

"It was the only thing I could do. Especially after being so utterly useless. It wasn't easy getting you out of that place… but I needed to."

"Why didn't you stay, then?"

Nick looked at him sadly. "I didn't have the courage to show my face after all that. I was so terrified that you'd be mad that I let that happen to you. I was terrified that Luke would go utterly berserk if he found out. Looking back, I wish I did, because at least then I'd still have a chance. A chance at being with you."

"That's enough, Nick. I don't want to hear that." Jonathan steadied his breathing. _Inhale, exhale_. "I'm glad enough you gave me a chance to live. I don't know where I'd be today if you didn't save me. That's more than enough for me." _Inhale, exhale_.

He watched as Nick bit down on his lower lip again. "Your body… all bruised and battered like that… was heavier than anything in this world. I swore I'd never let that happen to you ever again, to let you be all beaten up again. I took the coward's way out. And I know this means nothing to you anymore, Jonathan, but I really did love you. I never –"

He cut himself off instantly, as though he refused to let a few compromising words leave his mouth. He looked as though he was about to say something very silly indeed, with guilt overflowing in the depths of his eyes.

"Doesn't matter now." He continued. "You're right. It's all in the past. You've moved on. I should, too. I'll talk to someone else about how to help Eric. I just wish… I just wish you'd forgive me, and especially Eric. I'm sorry for taking up your time and disturbing your lunch."

As he stood, Jonathan piped up softly – "I never hated you or Eric. Even if I did, just a little bit, I've forgiven you two a long time ago."

Nick looked down at him, his eyes glimmering. "You've always been so sweet, Jonathan. Always so electric, so energetic. So… so beautiful. Don't ever change, Jonathan."

With a sudden move, he bent down and kissed Jonathan full on the lips, his lips nipping Jonathan's in an ever-familiar way, the way he had always done when they kissed in the dark. There had always been so much passion in their kisses as they unraveled before each other, with soft little moans escaping their lips in between each kiss. Their lips would mash together and they would grow giddy and breathless with each second that passed, and their bodies would come together under the moonlight.

There was, however, no passion on Jonathan's part in this kiss. His heart was not racing or pumping as hard as it could, and his mind was not foggy and clouded over with affection for the man before him. The kiss was familiar right down to the very taste of Nick's lips, but the familiarity repulsed him. There were no moans that could leave his throat, nor any physical response that could be coerced from him. Eyes wide open, he flinched and drew back away from Nick, their lips parting forcefully.

"What the hell?!" Jonathan sputtered.

Nick smiled a painful, heart-wrenching smile. The forlorn look in the dark olives of his eyes was overwhelmingly bittersweet. "Just checking if you still had the fight in you."

He straightened up and walked down the steps of the patio, leaving Jonathan flabbergasted. At the very base of the steps, he turned back, the portrait of a man who was suffering and collapsing deep inside, and murmured his parting words to Jonathan.

"I really did love you, Jonathan. What I didn't tell you was that I never stopped."

The man in the white overcoat walked off into the snowy distance. The words that he left behind echoed in the wake of his presence. It was some time before Jonathan realized that Luke had emerged back out from the house and had settled himself beside him with another cup of hot tea.

"You saw everything." Jonathan accused.

"Why didn't you retaliate?" Luke asked. "He forced himself on you!"

"Does it matter?"

"It sure does," Luke replied, sipping his now-cold tea. "He obviously still really likes you. I've never seen someone so hurt before. I'm just glad you didn't do something stupid and take him back or something."

"I don't know. I could've taken him back. But I didn't want to, especially not after that kiss. Is that bad?"

Luke looked at him incredulously. "Why would it be bad? Hell, you probably chose something really good for once."

"Hmm." Jonathan hummed as he sipped away on his new cup of hot tea. It hurt to see the expression on Nick's face as he left. But with the hurt came a pleasant feeling as well, as though he had done the right thing by rejecting Nick. The pleasantness and the serenity that he was surrounded with was great enough to put a small smile on his face for the first time in a long while. _I'm moving forward_.

* * *

Something was moving, rumbling about. Jonathan was rocking back and forth, and the world seemed to be shaking from side to side. He was lounging lazily on a soft, cushiony seat. A soft shush resounded every once in a while – waves crashing against a surface near him. _I'm on a boat_ , he thought to himself.

Things slowly came into focus. The sky was cloudless and bluer than ever, and the sun shone brightly in the sky, forming little circular flares against the corners of Jonathan's eyes. He squinted and sat up, looking around. Everything around him was a pristine, clean white. It became clear to him that he was on a ship, a cruise perhaps – except there was nobody else around him. He was all alone, or so he thought.

Evan was standing by the railing just ahead, his back facing Jonathan as he admired the view of the sea. His muscles stretched out the fabric of the shirt that he was wearing, the perfect sight of masculinity. Somewhere in his head, he heard a voice egg him on – " _Do something bold. Do something scary to get what you want_."

He got off the lounger that he had been lying on and approached Evan, each step less and less hesitant, each step less and less scary. He leaned in onto the rail next to Evan as the man twiddled around a ring in his fingers, the very same ring he had seen on Sarah's finger, a sad smile upon his lips.

" _I'm sorry_." Jonathan blurted out, and Evan turned towards him, his face lighting up as he realized that Jonathan was there.

" _It's fine, really…"_ Evan murmured. " _It's over now_."

With a flick of his hand, the ring cascaded and fell into the water, barely causing a ripple on the surface as the 'plop' sounded.

" _Evan, that –_ " Jonathan protested, panic rising in his voice. " _That meant a lot to you!_ "

" _Not anymore_." Evan closed in on him, closing whatever little of the gap there was between them. Their arms were touching, brushing against each other's as the ship rocked. " _Just look_."

He gently lifted Jonathan's left hand from his side and brought it up between them, and a shiny ring was fitted perfectly on his ring finger, the gem on it shimmering brilliantly in the sunlight, giving off stunning little sparkles of red, blue and green. Shocked, Jonathan looked back up at Evan to see the man grinning wider than ever.

" _Evan, what…_?"

But the man silenced him with a finger to his lips. " _Ssh, Jonathan. Just let me talk, please. I have so much to say to you._ "

He steadied himself, his finger sliding off Jonathan's lips. " _This… this is my gift to you. I couldn't think of what better to give you other than this. And if you'll take it… then you're going to give me the best gift I could ever get, too._ "

" _Evan, I… this…you're joking…_ "

" _I'm not_." Evan said firmly, his eyes boring into Jonathan's. " _Please, Jonathan. I need an answer._ "

Before Jonathan could make another sound, however, the ship rumbled, rocking harder than ever and sending the two teetering off balance. Their bodies collided, meshing together roughly and painfully. Jonathan felt Evan's strong fingers grip onto his body, steadying the two in a tight embrace.

" _I love you, Jonathan._ " Evan murmured into Jonathan's ear softly as he squeezed him gently. " _Please be with me_."

Jonathan felt the heat rise in his cheeks and he shut his eyes tightly, suppressing the tears from coming forth. _I must be dreaming,_ he thought. _He can't possibly want this_.

No matter how much he tried to convince himself, however, he felt the tears of pained happiness come through his eyelids. His heart was palpitating, rapid and filled with joy, jumping at every beat of the heart that he felt come from Evan's chest through the fabric that separated them.

There was a roar that grew louder and louder around him, and Jonathan frowned, eyes still sewn shut. _What the hell?_

The roar grew louder, and the darkness took over. There was no longer anything, nor anyone holding him tight. He was no longer standing on a ship, in the middle of the sea. Instead, he was sitting upright, his body lazily sprawled on a soft, cushiony seat that smelled strongly like leather. The seat shook ever so slightly, and his head shook with it, nodding from side to side. Wherever he was, he was moving at high speed, and all the events that had transpired were but a figment of his imagination, a product of his wishful thinking. _I'm a fool_.

The air around him was cold and dry, and he was only held loosely in place on the seat by a few straps. He was in a car, someone's car. Someone was driving him off at an insane speed, causing his body to be tossed around limply in his own seat. There was nobody else he could think of as such a crazed driver.

He commanded his eyelids to flutter open, allowing the bright light of the car interior to enter his eyes. Automatically, his hands flew to his eyes, shielding them from the light. "Where the fuck are we, Luke?"

"Nowhere, go back to bed." Luke replied coolly.

"I can't when you're kidnapping me to somewhere I don't know!" Jonathan groused as Luke hit a rough turn, causing Jonathan's body to slide and press itself towards the passenger seat door with a resounded thud. Jonathan yelped out loud in pain.

"LUKE!" He yelled. "Where are we?!"

"Like I said, nowhere." Luke reiterated, cool as ever. "Just go back to sleep and I'll wake you up when the time is right."

"How do you expect me to sleep when I don't know where I'm going and you're driving like a maniac?"

"You usually don't have a problem with that. Why, did I interrupt a nice dream? Sure sounded like I did."

"Shut up." Jonathan bit back. "Now pull over and let me out."

"You don't wanna do that, buddy. You're going to have to hitchhike back in the cold."

"Better than have you cart me off somewhere."

"God damn, I'm not bringing you anywhere dangerous. Don't you trust me just a little bit? It's going to be fun, trust me."

Jonathan narrowed his eyes at him, and gave up after a little while, committing himself to figuring out where the hell he was going. All he could see outside of the windows were trees and an entire patch of darkness, but he could faintly make out that they were driving upwards, growing higher and higher above the trees below.

"Why are we going up the mountains?" Jonathan queried, much calmer this time.

"I don't know, maybe it's a plot to kidnap you or something." Luke shrugged. "I promised the masterminds of this that I'll get you there by midnight though, so we're runnin' a little late."

The drive was relatively silent for the rest of the way. The impenetrable darkness of the outside world seemed to give no hint as to where they were heading on the mountain. It was until moments later that the darkness gave way to lights – way too many bright, multi-colored lights that blinked and flashed away as though a rave party was going on right at the top of the mountain. The lights grew brighter and brighter as they made their way towards the top, and eventually, as Luke pulled over after what felt like an eternity of driving, a wooden cabin came into view, glowing intensely with decorative lights and loud music blaring over speakers.

The two exited the car, and a petite figure began to run at them, stumbling slightly as she did. The figure lunged at Luke as he approached, throwing her arms around his neck playfully and collapsing into his arms.

"Luuuuke." Hannah drawled. "You took so long. I was beginning to miss you."

"Who got you this drunk?" Luke grumbled, unamused.

"Aw, you're such a party pooper." Hannah giggled and gently tweaked his nose. "We've got soda in the cabin, but it's not as fuuun."

"So… is anybody going to tell me what's going on here?" Jonathan probed, awestruck by the sight before him.

"The two ladies wanted to help you cheer up and so they came up with this shitty plan," Luke explained, rolling his eyes at a teetering Hannah, who stuck her tongue out at him.

"It's a great plan, okay?" Hannah asserted, slurring away at her words. "We're making up for his lost New Year and he's going to love it. Aren't you, Jonathan?"

A new song played, a song that he had heard over a million times on the radio. _God damn_ , he thought to himself.

"Depends on if you're going to play cheesy Top 100 tracks about butts all night long," Jonathan deadpanned, rubbing his eyes. "Look, I got pulled out of my own bed in my own home and kidnapped and dragged all the way up the mountains for this? I'm not missing out on my own beauty sleep just for your entertainment, you know."

"But you like butts." Hannah teased, her laughter growing. "Or maybe you like people that like your butt, I don't know."

"Where's Jenn?" Luke asked. "I'm gonna go kick her ass."

"In-siiiide. But don't pick on her, she's been really nice to me. Unlike you."

"Right," Luke rolled his eyes once more, and swept Hannah off her feet, carrying her in his arms bridal style. She squirmed playfully closer to him and slung her arms around his neck tighter, giggling harder than ever. "Follow me."

The two men trudged up towards the cabin and walked in. Upon entering, the music was louder than ever, and there was a strong scent of something peppery roasting away in the oven. The interior of the cabin, however, was what caught Jonathan's attention.

Hanging off the wooden walls were countless posters with various video game characters on them. Sleek wooden furniture filled the living area, with a few beanbags adorning the sides. Clean dark marble counters surrounded the kitchen and the cooking area, and a small wooden table was set by the windows. Further inwards, a wooden staircase led upwards to another level, and a banner hung from the banisters – _For Jonathan_.

"This…what is this?" Jonathan turned to Luke, not wishing to believe what he was seeing. _It can't be._

"Your Christmas present. Well, your _new_ and belated Christmas present. After all the amazing things you've done for everyone… we thought you deserved this. This cabin… this is yours. Two or so hours from your place, so if you ever just feel like droppin' everything and spending the weekend here… it's all yours for the taking."

"Where the heck did you get the money…?" Jonathan began, at a loss for words.

"It's from all of us. Your mom and dad wanted to do this for ages… and all it took was the three of us trading our original presents in and buyin' in on the idea for it to come true."

Jonathan opened his mouth, and then closed it again, unable to form a coherent sentence to express how he felt. There were a million things that needed to come out from his mouth in the moment, but not a single thing that he could express.

"It's all right, we know," Jenn called out as she emerged from the top of the stairs. "Wipe that dumb look off your face, because it's not that great. We're going to make you share even if it's yours. Then again, you don't care either way given how much Luke barges into your house to check your ass out."

Luke made a fierce tutting noise, and changed the subject. He nodded towards Hannah and asked, "Was this your doing?"

"Psh. You don't know how to have fun." Jenn waved him off as she ducked underneath the banner at the bottom of the stairs.

"Says the person who's blasting cheesy ass songs."

"Says the pretentious DJ," Jenn scoffed. She walked over to a mini fridge nearby the stove and pulled out a bottle of beer, tossing it at Jonathan. "Here, you'll need this if you want to survive being around that idiot for the rest of tonight. Plus, I can't drink that much or Gina will flip when she doesn't get picked up from Mom and Dad's in the morning, so you better help to finish the booze off."

"Nobody told you to bring that much booze. Look at what you've done to Hannah!"

"Hey, it was nice of her to help. Besides, the drinks were on sale."

"You could've stopped her!"

"Okay, you two, _stop_." Jonathan commanded, sensing a shouting match rising between the two. "Don't ruin this for me. This is great. I don't know what to say, but… thank you. All of you."

He uncapped the bottle and drank from it heartily, feeling the cold liquid stream into his mouth and down his throat, followed by the familiar burn of the alcohol that met his chest. _A few more bottles and I'll be dizzy_.

A soft giggle escaped Hannah's lips. "Let me down, Luke, I want another drink."

Luke frowned at her as he made his way to grab a can of soda from the fridge. "Don't overdo it."

Hannah pouted at him and made a sloppy turn towards Jenn. "Jenn, he's being mean," She whined.

"He's worried about you, he's always like this when he is," Jenn coaxed. "Go easy on the booze and leave that to Jonathan. He needs to get wasted more than you do. Plus, you don't want to miss the roast."

"Smells like Mom's roast," Jonathan noted. "Did she make it for us?"

" _No_ ," Jenn snapped sharply. "I used her recipe, that's all. I'm no natural like you are, but I'm not always bad at cooking."

"I can already make a drinking game out of every single time you screwed some food up, Jenn. I wonder how Gina even lives with you around."

Jenn stuck her tongue out at him and sank into a beanbag. She was soon followed by the rest in the cabin, forming a small little circle around an electric fireplace.

"Speaking of drinking games," Hannah piped up, "let's play one. Truth or drink. Jonathan – truth or drink?"

"Truth?" Jonathan answered uncertainly.

"How many times a day do you think of Evan?"

Jonathan grimaced. It was a question he only had a very rough answer to – _too many to actually count_. And whatever the cost, it was an answer that he could not reveal to anybody.

And so he thought for a small moment, before he lifted his bottle to his lips and downed the rest of the contents, to the teasing laughter of everybody else in the room. His head was already beginning to spin slightly with the intake of alcohol.

The round continued around the room, before the attention landed straight back onto Jonathan. This time, Jenn took the reins – "How regularly do you think of doing it with Evan?"

Jonathan frowned. "Why are my questions about Evan?"

"Because where's the fun in this if we're just going to ask you about yourself when we know you so well? Hurry up and answer, or just down the whole bottle if you don't want to."

Jonathan bit his lip, and quickly downed his second bottle of beer for the night. The buzzing in his head was starting really take effect, becoming stronger and stronger with each moment that passed. The world began to distort ever so slightly, and everything became funnier than usual – Luke's beard, Jenn's hair, Hannah's drunken giggles…

What happened next was but a blur. All Jonathan could remember was downing bottle after bottle of alcohol, feeling the rush of excitement as the liquid flowed down his throat and the heat pumped through his blood. He sang along to the tunes, giving off-key renditions of popular songs as the other three laughed at his antics. At some point, the roast was brought out, but he barely ate, only able to manage a few bites with shaky hands and a groggy head. At another, the lights in the cabin were turned off, and the interior was only illuminated by numerous colored lights and glow sticks. The party became a whirl, and not long after, Jonathan collapsed onto a beanbag, exhausted and giddy, in a completely delirious giggling fit, but happy nevertheless.

* * *

Jonathan awoke once again, his head heavier than ever. The light filtering through the windows was sharp and glaring, piercing his eyes. His vision was blurry, and it took a few moments before it cleared, revealing the crisp, yet soft blue of the sky, adorned with fluffy little white clouds high up in the air that seemed so near, yet so far away. A cold breeze blew through a small gap in the window that he faced, gently sending chilly spikes across the skin on his face. He was, however, warm for the most part.

He was no longer on a beanbag at the very first floor of the cabin where the party had been. He was instead in a room and on a soft warm bed, his body wrapped up in the comfort of a thick, warm silk comforter. The room was empty and the house seemed relatively quiet other than a soft high snore that echoed from another room.

Gingerly, he removed himself from the bed, head spinning slightly, thankful that he was not hungover and that the effects of the hard partying that he did last night were mild. The wooden floor was cold to the touch, and as he pushed the comforter of his body, the cold air hit, and he shivered, goosebumps forming on his skin. He made his way around the room, looking for a bathroom, and entered one just nearby the exit of the room.

Once he had brushed and freshened himself up, clearing most of the fog from his head, he tip-toed out of the room, past another where Hannah was slumped over in a small bed, sleeping the alcohol off. He made his way down the stairs, and was greeted by a surprisingly neat living area. Luke sat by a slightly open window, sipping away at a cup of coffee as he stared at the screen of his laptop. Jenn, however, was nowhere to be found.

"Jenn went back home hours ago," Luke answered his thoughts, never taking his eyes off his laptop once. "Dead worried about her kid."

Jonathan nodded, and sidled over to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge for some food. Too lazy to make some actual food, he settled for some biscuits and jam, before settling himself opposite of Luke at the table by the window.

"What are you doing?" Jonathan enquired, curious.

"Uploading my video for today."

"Speaking of that… I never got to thank you properly for helping me with mine when I was out."

"Hey," Luke looked up and smiled at him. "Happy to help. You had tons of spare footage that the subscribers were happy to see. I don't see why you don't ever upload them."

"Everybody else usually uploads them before I do, man." Jonathan groused. "It's not as fun anymore when everybody's already seen what happened. Besides, I have my own other videos to upload."

"Yeah, but doesn't mean that you shouldn't. Either way, it's what saved your ass this time around, so I can't tell you what you should do with them. And if you wanna thank me properly, you can treat me to a feast."

Jonathan snorted out a laugh. "At a restaurant? Sure thing."

"Home-cooked by you," Luke insisted playfully. "And I expect five-star service."

"Fuck you." Jonathan laughed, and tucked into a biscuit hungrily.

"Yeah, yeah," Luke derided. "So much for being grateful. All I ever wanted was a nice big meal cooked with love from my little brother and he refuses." He paused, faking a sigh. "My life is cruel."

"Alright, alright! I'll do it, god damn." Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Didn't know you felt that way about me, Luke."

A small pause, and he spoke again. "What happened last night? I can't remember much."

Luke looked back up at him. "Not much. You three were drunk idiots. Well, more of you and Hannah. Sometime after the lights went out you tried to kiss Hannah, and Jenn smacked you upside the head. I thought you'd be hurt or something, but you laughed it off like a maniac. The usual."

 _I'd tried to kiss my best friend's girl because I was a drunk idiot. Oops._

"I'm sorry about that. I really, really didn't mean anything by that."

"I know. After you passed out you were spewin' gibberish about Evan, anyway."

Luke chuckled to himself, and turned his attention back to his laptop, his face screwing up in concentration. After a long moment, the tension in the air was relieved by a small little whoop from Luke, indicating that the upload was successful. He sipped away at the last of his coffee, and alternated between looking at Jonathan and his screen.

"What? Have I got something on my face?"

"No," Luke dismissed.

"Then what?"

Luke glanced up at Jonathan once more. "The guys are dead curious about how you look like after Craig let slip of some details."

Jonathan frowned. "Like?"

"Something about you having gorgeous eyes. Which I'll agree with."

"And so you're telling them?"

"Not really. I'm just giving them a thousand and one reasons why they should stop wonderin' and wait until you're ready to show your face before they talk. Then again, they're pretty on edge since PAX is comin' up and they don't know if you'll turn up secretly."

A discomfort was gnawing away at Jonathan – there was something that he needed to do, something that was long overdue. There was an apology he had to make to someone that meant more than the whole wide world to him, and there were words that he needed to say. The opportunity was right before him, but he had to make a small sacrifice to do so –

 _Sacrifice? What sacrifice? They're my friends. They deserve to know. It's been forever and they should. It doesn't mean that the whole world should. Showing myself to them doesn't mean that I'm showing myself to the whole wide world. It's barely a sacrifice, barely one for something that I have to do_.

He played around with the idea in his head, and slowly reached towards Luke's laptop, turning it towards him. Luke protested angrily as he did, his fingers stilling mid-message.

"What are you doing?!"

"Something important."

He erased Luke's original message and began to slowly type his own-

"Hey guys, it's Delirious here, I'm with Cartoonz right now. I'll be coming to PAX East, and yes you guys will be seeing me. I'm not planning to show my face to the rest of the world, though, I just want to experience PAX as myself and hang out with my friends, if that's fine with you guys. I know this seems sudden, but I think it's about time that I did this. I'll catch you guys when I'm back home."

With a tap of the 'Enter' button, the message sent itself to his friends, sealing his fate once and for all. Luke slid out of his seat and stood over him, peeking over his shoulder and reading his message to their friends. Jonathan heard his breathing grow faster and more agitated as he read to the very end of the message.

"Are you serious?" Luke whispered fiercely, disbelieving. "You're going to show your face?"

"To you guys. Nobody else. I'm not sure if I'm ready for the big reveal yet, but I think this is fine."

"Are you still –"

"No, I'm not drunk anymore," Jonathan asserted. "I'm sure of this. I need to be there, and I want to be there. And I'm going as Jonathan, not as Delirious. Trust me, Luke."

The look of worry and uncertainty never left Luke's face. "Evan is going to be there, you know."

"That's the plan. I mean… I have to face him someday. This is the perfect chance. So please, Luke. Just trust me?"

Luke sighed softly and gave him a slightly less than confident smile. "I just hope you don't regret this."

"I won't. I've come this far," Jonathan announced, his voice tinged with a tone of finality.  
"I won't back out on this."

* * *

 _I'm really, really sorry for the wait! I'm also sorry if this chapter (and possibly the next) isn't as well-written. I think I might need a break or something, I feel like I'm losing my touch a little bit. At the same time, I foresee myself procrastinating maximally if I do. Either way, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you guys stick with me to the end of this story!_

 _-delmin_


	14. Chapter 14 - Distance

"HURRY UP, MINI, EVEN EVAN IS HERE!" Marcel's voice filled the entire hotel room as Evan walked in. "HE'S GOT MORE PARTS OF HIMSELF TO WASH THAN YOU DO AND YOU'RE TAKING FUCKING FOREVER!"

"Whoah, Marcel, if the entire building can't hear you…" Brock laughed as he settled himself into a soft chair in the quaint hotel room, his muscular body assuming a closed, awkward posture in the small chair.

"What's up with Craig?" Evan asked.

"I'm taking a shit, give me a damn moment!" Craig yelled back, out of sight, his voice echoing from the bathroom. "Keep your fucking pants on!"

"Look at this," Marcel rolled his eyes dramatically as he scowled. "Me, Tyler and Anthony had to share a fucking room with this fucker the other year. I had to _share a damn bed_ with this motherfucker."

"Hey, at least the arrangements are more forgiving now." Brock said cheerily. "Everyone gets an entire bed to themselves. I mean, I'd have come that time. It sounded like a whole lot of fun."

Tyler snorted, lounging at the foot of the bed. "You wouldn't say that if you had to squeeze yourself and three other grown men in a tiny room."

"Regardless, I'm just glad to be here again this year," Moo chuckled. "It's just really nice to see more and more of us coming together for PAX. Just think, someday we'll be able to have all our friends, even Nogla and Brian here with us."

"Yeah," Tyler nodded in agreement, stretching lazily on the bed. "It's kinda nice that Delirious is coming along this year. After all these years of not knowing what he's actually like, he's almost like a myth. I wonder what made him decide to come. Dude was either tripping balls or being extra stupid that day."

"I'd say both, but given what's happened to him recently…" Marcel stole a quick glance at Evan, before looking away, "…I'd say he's doing this because he wants to. Dude isn't the smartest, but he knows what's best for himself."

Three knocks on the door announced the arrival of even more people. The room instantly became a lot more crowded than before, and a lot warmer than before. After a whole episode of hustling and bustling to make space for each other, Lui settled himself near Evan on the edge of Craig's bed, whilst Arlan quietly slouched in a chair nearby Brock's.

"What's Mini doing?" Lui inquired. "I thought we said we'll be going at six thirty."

"Taking a huge-ass shit, apparently," Marcel grumbled. "Either that or he's busy doing _something else_."

"Ugh." Lui made a face. "How long has he been in there?"

"Ask Tyler, he was here first before Mini went to take the hugest dump in existence."

"About forty minutes now," Tyler said, holding his wrist up to his face and sliding his jacket up to reveal his wristwatch. "I'm actually beginning to think he's trying to stall us from seeing Delirious since he and Evan already got first dibs on that."

Another couple of hasty glances at Evan were exchanged around the room, as though the guys were being particularly wary around Evan with their words. The atmosphere was strangely tense, as if the guys were expecting a reaction from Evan. Evan frowned. _They're avoiding talking about something_.

"What's up?" Evan asked, crossing his arms and leaning back. He looked around at the faces of his friends, each hiding a look of mild guilt.

"Well?" Evan demanded. "You guys are acting weird. Every time you mention Jona- sorry, _Delirious_ – you guys make a weird expression and you guys keep looking at me like I'm going to explode or something. And…to be quite honest… you guys haven't mentioned him in the past few months."

The room fell silent. A silent conversation seemed to be taking place between the rest of the people in the room, and Evan was thoroughly lost. The silence dragged out uncomfortably, until Tyler suddenly snapped.

"God damn it, you idiots," he half-yelled, sitting up forcefully. "I'm fucking tired of this shit. Evan is our friend. Delirious is also our friend. I don't fucking care what the fuck happened to them, I just want to be able to talk about my friends and to my friends without worrying about shit. I want to play with my friends, man, all of them, both Delirious and Evan included, so I'm done trying to step around the both of them like they're fucking bombs waiting to explode. They're friends, we're all friends. We're all grown men. Whatever shit's going on, they'll fix it on their own, so quit acting like they're children that'll die just hearing each other's names."

Satisfied with saying his piece, Tyler returned to lounging on the foot of the bed, swinging his feet about. Evan swallowed silently, processing what had just been said. The guys had been avoiding the topic of Jonathan in front of him, and avoided mentioning him in front of Jonathan. Jonathan had been there whenever he wasn't. _Does he hate me so much to avoid me now_ …? Evan's chest tensed up as a sharp ache settled in his heart.

Marcel sighed. "I'm done, too. This is going nowhere. Avoiding this shit isn't going to solve their problems. You've got to talk to him, Evan. This weekend's the perfect chance."

"Yeah," Brock chimed in gently. "It'll be fine. You guys just need to talk it out. Whatever happens, you guys will always be friends, best of friends. There's nothing that fact can't mend. Besides… if there's anything we know, you guys will be doing what you guys know best sooner than you think."

Evan felt hands gently patting his back in encouragement. A warmth spread through his body, the familiar warmth of support.

"Look, guys," he began. "It's going to be fine. I know it wasn't easy for you guys, all this back and forth between the two of us – and I'm sorry that we put you guys in this situation – but it's fine, guys, really. Like Tyler said, it doesn't hurt to hear about him, whatever happens. We're all friends, aren't we? So we'll stay friends, as always."

From the bathroom came a loud flush and the sound of a can of air freshener being sprayed furiously. Moments later, Craig emerged from the bathroom, shutting the door quickly behind him. "What did I miss?"

"What the fuck was that, did you shit out an entire planet?" Tyler asked incredulously. "We're running late to go get Luke and Delirious."

"Hey, nature called. But what did I miss, tell me!"

The guys looked at each other for a long moment, and laughed as the stood, preparing to go. As Evan passed Craig, he patted his shoulder. "Come on, let's go meet them. We'll fill you in on the way."

* * *

In an empty restaurant, Jonathan and Luke sat opposite each other. Jonathan's head was barely propped up on the table by his folded arms, and he let out soft little groans of distress every once in a while, noises that were responded to by dark glances from Luke.

"I take it back, Luke, I wanna back out now," Jonathan whined with his head in his arms, his voice muffled. "This is the worst decision I've ever made."

" _I won't back out on this_ ," Luke repeated his words back at him. "Famous last words. Too bad, though, we're here and they're coming soon. Even if you wanted to back out now, it's way too late. Didn't you also say that you didn't want to disappoint them?"

"It's too much, Luke," Jonathan groaned. "Too many of them at once."

"Too bad. You said you'd do it, now you're gonna do it. Besides, if you're gonna bail on this, how the fuck are you gonna survive the next three days at PAX?"

"I don't know. I don't even know how I managed to hold up all the way here. Maybe I should just book a ticket back to North Carolina now. Like… I should just go home, hole up in my room and not come out for the next year or so. God, what the hell was I thinking when I decided to do this?"

Luke narrowed his eyes at Jonathan, before reaching over his head and grabbing the hood of his jacket and pulling it over Jonathan's head roughly. The man yelped softly into his arms, protesting furiously at the treatment.

"It's too late to be self-conscious, buddy, you're gonna meet them, like it or not. God, where are they? They're fuckin' late."

As if upon command, a group of men appeared by the doorway, laughing and talking amongst themselves with wide grins upon their faces. Their excitement was apparent, and their presence was like light amongst the doom and gloom at the table that Jonathan and Luke sat at. Jonathan stiffened at the sound of one very distinct and familiar voice that he had heard so many times. It was time to face his fears, to face the man that had stolen his heart.

Timidly, he raised his head gently such that it was gently propped up by his chin on his arms, his body still hunched over on the table. The group of faces that was moving towards them through the door was absolutely familiar, seen through countless photos and videos that they had. It began to dawn on him that there was nothing he could do to reverse his situation now – he had to see them, and there was no amount of running that he could do that could fix this.

His eyes caught the familiar brown of Evan's. The man looked at him intently, a small, encouraging smile on his face. He gently nodded at Jonathan, and Jonathan could almost imagine him patting him gently on the back, giving him the strength he needed to face his friends for the first time. At the very same time, he felt a small ache in his heart as he took in all of the small enticing smile.

"Oh. My. God." Marcel burst out, his gaze straight towards Jonathan. "That is not – It can't be –"

Jonathan bit his lip as he felt what seemed like a gazillion pair of eyes turn in his direction, examining him from head to toe. Almost instantly, the group had migrated themselves over to the table, and Luke stood up to greet them, exchanging hugs and pats on the back.

"So I guess this is Delirious, then." Brock smiled warmly at Jonathan, extending his hand towards the man. "It's so nice to actually see you. You _are_ as cute as Craig said you were."

Jonathan felt the heat creeping into his cheeks, and he took Brock's hand, shaking it awkwardly. "Uhm, hi. And thanks."

Marcel was the next to take his hand and shake it eagerly. "Man… it's great to see you after so long. I can't believe I'm actually seeing the face behind the laugh."

Jonathan repeated the process as he took Marcel's hand and shook it, this time with slightly more confidence than before. With each face that greeted him and with each hand that he shook, he felt bolder and bolder, and less and less strange. It was as though they were all old friends, and all the first introductions were but an empty ritual that served merely to highlight their familiarity with each other.

When it came to Craig, the young man did not extend his hand towards Jonathan. Instead, he threw himself at him, taking Jonathan into a tight bear hug that threatened to squeeze the breath out of his lungs.

"Mini," he gasped. "You're squeezing me to death."

"God, I missed you and your face," Mini wailed. "After all that's happened to you…God…"

"Mini," he barely breathed out as the man squeezed him even tighter. "You're really strong and I can't breathe."

He felt the man release him, and he shuddered slightly as fresh air finally flooded back into his lungs. Mini mouthed his apology at him, smiling sheepishly as he slid away to settle himself by Luke, giving way as Evan stepped forth, an expectant look in his eyes.

The world around the two of them seemed to come to a standstill. Everyone seemed to stop breathing and exchanging their greetings, and all eyes seemed to be planted on the pair, watching them intently.

"Uhm," Evan began hesitantly, unsure. "It's been some time."

"Yeah," Jonathan mumbled, his heart pumping furiously under the layers of clothes. "Some - some time indeed."

"You look so much better than before. Is the arm and the leg okay?"

"Much better, thanks." Jonathan returned awkwardly, not knowing what else to say. He had a million things that he had on the tip of his tongue, a million words that he swallowed straight back into the depths of his chest when he saw Evan once more. His courage had failed him once more, and he hated himself bitterly for that.

"Uhh…Should we just eat?" Brock cut in, and sat down on the seat next to Jonathan's, gently easing his tension with a hand on his shoulder. "I'm curious to know more about Delirious now that we've actually met him."

"You guys can actually call me Jonathan." He murmured softly, barely meeting the expectant eyes of his friends. "I mean, you guys already know that, but… it's kind of odd not hearing my own name in real life."

Brock chuckled softly, plucking a menu from the side of the tables. "Sure thing, Jonathan. Speaking of food, we heard from Craig you're a great cook."

"Not… really." Jonathan replied, playing with the drawstrings on his jacket. "I mean… I'm decent enough to survive."

"Aw, come off it," Craig moaned. "You practically made us four-star breakfast right there that morning."

"And gave it to him in bed." Luke sniggered, and Jonathan shot a dark look at the man, only to have him laugh harder, until Craig growled at him to shut up.

"You lucky bastards got treated to some real good food, then," Tyler chimed in. "I expect to be invited to a fucking feast one of these days. No pressure, though. Just saying that we've all been friends for so long and I'd like to be treated to something nice as well."

Jonathan gave Tyler a sheepish smile. "One day, Tyler. One day."

The boys continued in their efforts to understand Jonathan much better – asking him questions about his life, about what he's been doing and how his life was like. The arrival of dinner barely stopped the barrage of questions that Jonathan was assaulted with, and instead added on to the attention that Jonathan was gathering. Even those not asking questions were tuned in to the ongoing conversations with him, stealing glances every few minutes in his direction. The effect of it all was a mild discomfort that Jonathan gladly took over having to face Evan.

"Anyway, you're not planning to do a face reveal, are you?" Marcel asked, polishing off the last of his meal. "Doesn't seem like it's something you'd do straight off the bat."

Jonathan shook his head. "I'm not. It's just you guys. To be honest… I was kind of freaking out already just meeting you guys."

"Aw, what for?" Brock looked over at him, a small, encouraging smile plastered on his face. "It's just us. We're all friends, and we've all been friends for the longest time. Just because we haven't seen your face doesn't make you any less foreign to us. You're still the same old Delirious to us – well, with the added adorableness."

Jonathan flushed at Brock's words as murmurs of agreement resounded around the tables, along with soft, barely suppressed laughter from Tyler.

"What?!" Brock sounded indignant.

"First Evan and now you. You both sound fucking gay when you guys talk to him, I swear to god."

"Hey, I'm telling the truth at least. He _is_ really cute."

"Yeah, right. Just don't get your dick stuck up his butt the night after tomorrow." Tyler dismissed, roaring with laughter.

"Okay, _nobody_ is going to go get their dicks stuck up _anybody_ 's butt at any point this weekend, okay?" Lui giggled. "Luke and Mini are already going to drag our sorry asses back to our hotels, I don't think they needs to see anything more."

"Thanks, Lui," Luke called out, whilst Craig half yelled – "I'm _of_ _drinking age_ , god damn it!"

Jonathan had to laugh, and he did, feeling the tension ease from his chest. The scene was so familiar, and the way they were speaking to each other was not out of the ordinary. They were like old friends who knew each other inside out, spending time together, eating together, and sharing inside jokes with each other. Their friendship had not changed one bit offline. _At least with most of us,_ he thought.

"It does kind of suck not being able to hang out the whole time though." Arlan pointed out. "You've got to hide or pretend to just be a fan when we're doing the more high profile stuff."

"It does, but I'll find a way to stick with you guys, I promise."

The group slowly broke up, leaving the restaurant, their stomachs full and most of their curiosity sated from their first meeting with Jonathan. As Luke and Jonathan waved to the rest of the group and left them, trudging off in the opposite direction, the others started off back towards their hotel in a slow stroll. Lui and Arlan headed the procession, turning back every once in a while to joke and talk with Tyler, Craig and Marcel. Evan, however, sidled behind the rest quietly, deep in thought, only to be joined by Brock.

"He's really pretty, you know?" Brock teased. "I think I was right about him being worth every sacrifice."

"Doesn't matter, does it? You saw how he reacted when he saw me." Evan sighed softly, his eyes pinned towards the ground.

"I wouldn't worry that much if I were you. He looked like he was just about losing it when he first saw us."

"No, Brock, you don't get it. You didn't feel what I felt, I don't think anybody did. He felt so distant. It almost didn't feel like we were friends back there. It's as if I don't even know him anymore, Brock. I don't know what to do."

"I don't think he hates you, if that's what you mean." Brock reassured. "I know you guys won't have much of a chance over the weekend, but you two need a heart to heart talk. Without any of us around, just the two of you. He needs to hear how you feel about him. And you need to hear him out badly."

"But -" Evan began to protest

"Evan, listen. You love him, don't you? So chase after him. Before he's gone or gets snatched up by someone else. You've nearly missed your chance once. Don't let it go again."

* * *

"Okay – we have a panel set in the afternoon at two, and we have to be there by one, so that gives us plenty of time for a lunchtime getaway with Jonathan –"

" _Not_ plenty of time, we'd only have half an hour at maximum." Tyler interjected. "We'd only get there at eleven or so, and I'm prepared to be swarmed until twelve-thirty."

He narrowed his eyes suddenly, and glanced over at a camera pointed to his face. "Stop trying to make me say it!"

"Say it, I dare you," Craig laughed.

Tyler rolled his eyes, and took a bite of his pancakes, before announcing, "Puncake!"

Stifled giggles resounded around the table, each person trying their best not to laugh out loud.

"Okay, okay," Lui began again, barely able to hold back fits of laughter himself. "Back to business. If lunchtime is out, then we're only left with tonight. Which is out since half of us are invited to a party the other half of us aren't."

"Who says you guys can't hang out with him? It's not like everybody has to be there." Evan mumbled, barely wanting to be heard.

"It's not the same, Evan, you know that. Especially without _you_ here."

"So we can't really hang with him that much today." Arlan concluded with an air of disappointment. "Well, look forward to tomorrow, I guess."

"God, I'm still not used to matching his face with his voice, though," Tyler said, his mouth full. "It's going to take some time to get used to that."

"Nah, he looks just like how he sounds like. I don't have any problem with that." Marcel countered. "It's just that he's acting a little weird and shy at the moment. Once he gets used to us, he'll be loud and goofy as usual."

"Speak of the devil."

The eyes at the table directed themselves to the doorway, where a bearded man entered with a slightly slimmer and smaller man trailing behind him, the portrait of a younger brother meekly following behind his big brother. In Jonathan's hands was a small box slightly larger than the size of his palms, and he held it close to his chest in an incredibly adorable poise. Almost immediately, whatever cameras were out were shoved away.

"Look who's here, Luke and his little lamb." Marcel joked.

"Shut up," Jonathan retorted, smiling almost naturally. _He seems better today,_ Evan thought. _More himself_. The yearning to grab the man and hold him tight was growing, bit by bit as he watched Jonathan become more and more comfortable, and act more like the man he knew and fell in love with.

Perhaps it was his wishful thinking when he thought he saw a small sliver of pink appear on the man's cheeks when Jonathan caught his eye. With a hint of shyness, Jonathan turned and walked up towards Evan, and held out the little box in his hands, an invitation for Evan to take it.

"It's… it's for you," Jonathan blurted out. "It's to thank you for when you took care of me when I was injured."

Evan took the box from his hands gingerly and examined it. The box was lighter than he thought it would have been, and the contents seemed to be packed within the box well, with no sound being produced when he shook it slightly.

"What is it?" He asked, curiosity taking over.

"Open up and see," Jonathan replied with a cheeky wink. "You'll like it."

Evan felt like a child on Christmas Day again – except his heart was beating faster and more joyfully than ever. There was everything about this little gift that had made it special. The fact that it was given to him personally by Jonathan already made the gift better than any other gifts in the world. The fact that Jonathan held the box so closely to his chest, where his heart beat against it and his warmth still lingered on the surface of it, made the simple act of holding the gift priceless. Gently, he slid a finger underneath the gap at the top of the box and opened the box slowly, revealing a mess of colorful fabric.

"Take it out," Jonathan urged as he saw the confusion on Evan's face. Evan gently began to pull the soft material out of the box, to reveal a small owl plushy, with a pair of shiny, beady eyes and a soft tiny beak.

"It's…" Evan breathed. "It's adorable." _Just like you. No… you're more adorable than it is, than anything else out there._

"I'm glad you like it."

"I really do," Evan replied earnestly. "Thank you. So much."

"No, I mean – I should be thanking you." Jonathan flushed slightly, his lip quivering from effort. "After all you did…"

 _After all I did, you'd hate me. I should be apologizing, not being thanked._

"Thank you, either way. It's really nice." Evan smiled sincerely, and the blush deepened on Jonathan's cheeks, causing the man to bit his lips slightly and look away.

"Aw, I want one too." Craig whined playfully. "I want a cute plushy from Jonathan too."

"Me too," Lui squeaked in a perfect imitation of a child. "He isn't being fair to us, what a meanie."

"What are you guys talking about, I send you guys gifts all the time," Jonathan complained, the red in his cheeks becoming more intense.

"You never give it to us in person, and you never make cute expressions at us. That's already unfair on its own."

"I didn't –" Jonathan began to protest.

"Unfair! Unfair!" Lui squeaked. "Unfaaaaair."

Jonathan gave up mid-protest, and rolled his eyes, before bursting into a soft giggle. The rest of the table soon joined in, unable to hold back, and even Evan had to laugh.

"Anyway… We're really sorry we can't really hang out much with you today, dude. It's pretty packed for us – we've got a panel and we'll probably be swarmed out there. We thought about at least having lunch with you but we probably won't have enough time, either."

"You mean the people headlining the panel wouldn't." Marcel corrected. "The rest of us would happily be in the audience at two and are able to take our own sweet time to have a nice sumptuous lunch."

"It's fine, it really is. It wouldn't kill to be alone for a day, guys, you're acting like I need a companion the whole time." Jonathan reasoned, shrugging.

Multiple eyes darted towards him, concerned. "What?"

"It's your first time in Boston, dude. We're kind of worried you'd get into trouble alone." Tyler said bluntly. "I don't think you've noticed, dude, but shit happens to you whenever it can happen. Even more so because you're pretty, uh… _small_. You wander into the wrong place, and people are going to have no qualms over starting shit with you."

"You guys act like I've only barely managed to survive on my own for the past ten or so years. And I'm not that small."

"Either way, it's still not a good idea for you to go anywhere alone. If anything, just stay close to us just enough for us to see where you are and for you to know where we are, okay?"

Jonathan let out a soft sigh. "Alright."

Luke reached over to ruffle his hair as he struggled and protested loudly. "That's my boy."

"Alright, it's time to go. Join us at the panel later, okay? It'll be nice to see you in the audience and get some moral support from you." Brock winked as he stood, and the group left the little café, all set and ready for the first day of PAX.

The convention center was packed. Every inch of the grounds of the building was filled with people. In just about every corner were people, dressed in various colors and as various characters. Intense lights also lit the interior of the building alongside numerous displays for different games and upcoming games. Long lines of people adorned the booths, the queues seeming to never end. Everywhere was a hustle and bustle, and it almost seemed too easy for a person to vanish and not be seen again.

"Remember, stay close, okay?" Luke reminded Jonathan as they stood on the escalator without turning his back, and he nodded meekly in response, evidently overwhelmed by the sight and the crowd. Evan glanced over at the man, a slight worry hanging over him. _I shouldn't worry,_ he chanted in his head. _He'll be fine, he'll take care of himself. He'll just be nearby, and we'll all take turns to keep an eye on him_.

Already, however, the group was begging to split up. A portion of the group wanted to go check out a few displays, and another portion wanted to try out a new indie horror game. The only solid instruction passed around was to be at the panel on time and to catch each other at the panel, before the group split up and left each other to their own devices. Evan himself was dragged away by a zealous fraction of the group to test out an upcoming first person shooter, and as he stumbled away from Jonathan, the worry weighed heavier on his mind. He shot a final glance back towards where he last saw the man, only to see a sea of heads and faces that were not Jonathan's. Quietly, he hoped that the man would be fine, perfectly fine, and he tried his best to ignore the discomfort in his chest and the growing uneasiness in his stomach.

* * *

"Damn, this game looks so fucking cool." Tyler gushed, almost uncharacteristically. "How long do you think it'll take us if we queue now?"

"Shouldn't take too long. The matches seem to be going pretty quickly." Evan said as he joined in on the queue. "Do you guys think…"

"Do we think Jonathan managed to keep up? Sure." Craig answered his unfinished question.

"But he just disappeared into the crowd."

"Yeah, but he probably thought we did, too. Except he probably saw Tyler sticking out and followed the giant. Relax, dude. We're all worried, but you're just overreacting now. Just look at yourself. We've been to, what, two booths now and you're not only quieter than usual but you're also less sharp than usual. You probably had one of the worst K/Ds in existence in the last one."

Evan grinned sheepishly. "Yeah… I don't have an excuse."

"Yes, you do, you always do because you'd get embarrassed if you didn't," Tyler responded. "That excuse is Delirious."

"Shut up." _It's just strange not hearing him laugh while I play_.

"Not gonna." Tyler moved up ahead in the queue towards the front as another group left the rows of computers in the playing area. Evan followed after reluctantly, and was followed by Craig, who smirked gleefully at him.

"How many times since?"

"Since what?"

"What's the count since the first time you saw him again yesterday?" Craig elaborated, the smirk growing larger.

"God, why does it matter so much to you?"

"Stop dodging the question. How many times since yesterday?"

Evan paused, before quietly mumbling in a low voice such that his words were almost inaudible – "About fifteen."

Craig let out a loud whoop and began to laugh hysterically, attracting the attention of countless onlookers. "Fifteen… times…" He choked out between guffaws.

"Shut up, dude, you're embarrassing me," Evan cautioned, temperature rising in his cheeks.

"You mean you're embarrassed at yourself. _Fifteen times_ , holy shit." Craig whispered, trying his best to suppress another wave of laughter. "That's just, what, last night and this morning? How much of it was last night?"

"Shut – you know what? I give up. I'm going to go try out a cool new game and I'm not going to talk to you for the next ten minutes."

"Yeah, and you're going to think of him for the full ten minutes, too." Craig teased as their part of the queue moved up into the playing area and they settled, side by side, at a few computers.

Evan, however, did not respond. Something else had caught his eye from the seat opposite him. A hooded figure had settled there, with his strands of dark hair peeking out from underneath his hoodie and beanie, and a pair of clear blue eyes bored into his. With a cheeky smile, Jonathan gave him a small wave with his fingers, before turning his attention to his own screen, ready to play. Evan could almost hear Jonathan's signature laughter in his head echoing away. It was almost familiar – they were playing together, enjoying themselves together. The one thing that changed it all was that Jonathan was really in front of him, and there was something off about him.

The match entered its preparation phase, and the overlay on the screen was possibly one of the coolest he'd ever seen. Names slowly began to pop up across the screen, with each player typing in their temporary nicknames for the next ten minutes. A nickname on the opponent team stood out particularly to him – _Delicious_. He smiled to himself. _Just like the old days_.

The countdown began for the match the officially began. A race began towards the other side of the map, and Evan struggled to grasp the mechanics of the game. When the first kill feeds came in, he only barely managed to understand what he had to do in the game. It was mere seconds, however, before his character was shot in the head by 'Delicious'. He could hear Jonathan's amused laughter in his head as the pair of bright blues peeked out from the side of their screens and gave him another smile – only this time, the smile was odd, its unnaturalness more pronounced.

"What the hell, Evan?" Tyler groused as Evan got shot down yet again, mere moments after he respawned. "You're really not up to par today."

"He's busy thinking about someone," Craig replied, before he paused, looking at something beyond the screens. "No, I take that back. He's busy staring at someone."

"Well, stop staring at that ass then and get your head in the game," Tyler chided, barely even taking his eyes off the screen.

He couldn't. For the rest of the match, Evan was constantly overwhelmed and barely made an impact on the team's score, leading the team to a smattering defeat. As their group stood up, preparing to leave, he saw a glint in the amazing blue as Jonathan stuck a hand out to him, inviting him to a handshake. Evan took his hand, feeling its warmth, and shook it mechanically. There was something odd about the handshake akin to an unfamiliarity, as though he was shaking a stranger's hand instead of a friend's. Their hands were joined in a friendly gesture, yet he felt all the distance in the world between the two of them.

When they released each other from the handshake and walked away from the playing area, the tension did not go unnoticed by Tyler and Craig.

"You okay, dude?"

"Yeah," Evan affirmed. "Just... felt like something was a little odd. It's okay, though."

"Dude, you two need to talk, bad." Tyler said, frowning slightly. "I don't want to ruin the mood now that we've started to have fun and all, but you two looked like you guys were hiding some serious shit back there. I don't know how he's like in real life, but so far he's been acting further and further away from the Delirious we know."

"Yeah," Craig nodded in agreement. "I spent around two days around him and I still think he's acting weirder and weirder by the minute. Like he's trying to keep up appearances or something. You guys really need to talk. I don't know when, but you guys have to do it."

"I know, and I will," Evan responded. "I just don't know how, or when. And when we do get to talk… I don't even know what I'm going to say."

* * *

"Is this thing even on?" Lui's squeak reverberated across the room. The crowd laughed, and Lui smiled, continuing, "Is everybody ready?"

A loud 'Yes!' resounded from the crowd, before descending into a mess of murmurs.

"Okay, uh," Lui began again in his regular voice. "Wow, I don't even know how to start. I'm kind of amazed there are so many people here to begin with, that so many people watch us and want to watch a bunch of nerds talk for an hour. Anyway, we're going to start. I'm Lui, and, well, we have Mini Ladd, Wildcat, Vanoss, and for the first time since I made him stand up in the audience, Moo Snuckel!"

Each of them waved into the audience awkwardly.

"To be honest I don't even know how this came about," Craig began. "One day the organizers just asked us if we wanted a panel just for ourselves and our friends, so we decided – why not?"

"Except they wanted to call it, what, the 'Vanoss crew panel'?" Lui said. "We told them we weren't a group, and that we're just individual friends that play together. Except we can't get all our friends up here today, so some of them are stuck in the audience again."

"You're going to make them stand up again aren't you?" Craig asked incredulously, an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah. Like – Cartoonz, Marcel and Droidd are over there," Lui pointed out to a small area in the left portion of the audience where the three men sat. "We saw Scott and Anthony earlier but I think they decided to go touch tips or something, I don't know. Stand up and say hi, you guys."

The three men's reactions were as different as it could get. Arlan stood up slowly and hesitantly, whilst Marcel raised a hand to flip them the bird. Luke, however, shot up instantly, only to cup his hands to his mouth and jeer loudly, "Boo!"

The audience burst into loud laughter as the three men settled back down. Evan made out another familiar face amongst them, just next behind Luke – Jonathan. _At least he's here_. He wrung his hands tighter than ever and tried to steady his breathing, trying to think about something else other than what felt like millions of pairs of eyes on him. The incredible amount of attention he got made his head spin. He could feel the urge to simply hop up from his seat and make a beeline towards the nearest door growing in his chest. The tension was electric, surging through his body, from head to toe and from his depths to his extremities. All he could do in the moment was to focus on the calming blue he saw in the midst of the crowd.

"Alright, so screw those guys, we're going to get on with our panel. So, wherever you guys are watching right now, live here in this hall or at home on a livestream or on video, we're all really glad to have everybody join us here. It makes all those numbers that we see and all those comments that we see online a little more real, and it's insane to think that so many people out there follow us and watch our videos. But enough of hearing from me – let's start taking some questions from the crowd."

A few hands immediately shot up in the air where Luke, Marcel and Arlan sat. Rolling his eyes dramatically, Lui called out to them – "What, you guys?"

A microphone was passed to them, and Marcel simply asked – "Yeah, uh, this question is for all of you guys. When are you guys going to, uh, you know, give us some of your subscribers so we can be on the panel as well?"

"I'm sorry – who are you guys?" Craig answered, mirth bubbling in his voice. "Are you guys supposed to be YouTubers?"

Another wave of laughter from the crowd. A few more hands began to shoot up from within the crowd, this time with less hesitance. A few shuffles of the microphone led to another question, this time from a high, sharp voice – "Do you guys think that each person in a video play a different role to make it really successful, and if so, who usually does what?"

The guys looked around at each other quietly for a moment, thinking.

"Well," Tyler spoke up after a short pause, "I won't say that everyone plays a specific role in a video, because we simply invite whoever wants to come along into the call to play and then let things happen from there. Of course – different people make different funny moments come alive. Like for example if you have Lui, he'd play around with the squeaker voice and sometimes funny stuff comes from that."

"And, well –" Evan began uncertainly, his voice wavering slightly. _The blue, Evan, the blue, focus on the blue._ "Like Tyler said, it's not about the roles that make a video successful or funny, it's really the people that make things happen. A combination of different people makes a certain dynamic work and I think that changes why something is funny in a video."

"Like, let's say, I like to just talk shit a lot and me and Evan usually end up taking one idea way too far and it just creates these phrases that everyone repeats for a long time after the videos come out," Tyler added.

"Or when Nogla is around and he says a lot of incomprehensible things and sometimes that makes up for a lot of the funny moments as well." Brock stated.

"Yeah, and to add to that," Craig gently directed the microphone towards him. "I guess it's because we all have our own personality – we're not trying to create a sort of group where everybody has their own set roles to fit into. Everybody is an individual and when we play with each other our personalities just add to each other. It's not that much of, let's say, because we need someone to act silly, we'll invite our friend H2O Delirious, or like if we need someone to rage we get our friend Nogla. It's more of us bringing along our friends to play with us, and then their personalities – like Delirious's crazy laugh and Nogla's funny raging – make everything all the funnier."

From the corner of his eyes, Evan could have sworn he saw a dull tinge of pink brush across the blue, and a small, appreciative smile appear on Jonathan's lips as Craig spoke, conviction coloring every word.

"Yeah, and I guess it's also always great to know who you're playing with well – like, uh, hashtag friendship. I mean – that's what really makes things work, since you know what to do or say that will make the best out of every gameplay session." Lui concluded, exchanging glances across the panel before asking - "Next question?"

"Um, hi," A small voice piped up. "Big fan of all your videos. I'm just wondering what do you guys think of Let's Players who play mainly using their face-cam as a part of the video's focus and is it a necessary part of success as a YouTuber?"

"I don't think it is." Evan answered brusquely.

"Yeah, I don't think it is, either." Craig agreed, nodding. "I think it's really a personal choice. I use mine for certain games especially the solo games that I play. Some of us don't even use it for any of our gaming videos. I don't think there's a set formula for success. We have friends that have never shown their face and they're still quite popular amongst you guys. It's the personality that counts – if you come across as a funny and likeable person and your content is really creative, I think that matters more to success than a face."

 _A face, huh_? Evan mused, glancing back into the crowd where Jonathan sat quietly. _There's definitely more to him than just a face. He's so much more._

"How about another question then? Maybe from this side of the audience now."

"Uh, hi, also a big fan. I wanted to ask – do you guys have any advice for people wanting to start up their YouTube channels?"

"Well, if it's really something you want to do, and you really enjoy making videos, then give it a shot. It's not for everybody, not everyone will enjoy it. It's always been my motto – do something you enjoy and you'll never have to work a single day in your life."

"Agreed. Any thoughts on that, Evan?" Brock gently nudged the dazed man.

"Uh," Evan began, still staring into the one thing that kept him calm. "I guess… it's important to truly love your dream first. It's easy to love an illusion, I mean - it's easy to like what being a YouTuber seems like, but it's not easy to keep up with it. There's a lot of effort to be put in. There's a lot more to regret if you're going to give up everything for something you're not truly passionate about. But if you are, go for it. Whatever hardships then would be just a breeze."

* * *

Jonathan rolled about in bed, heart pounding and his head heavy. Fatigue weighed him down on the bed, yet he was sleepless – memories and thoughts kept popping into his head, disturbing the silence and the darkness that he had tried so hard to maintain in his mind.

He had barred himself from feeling too much for Evan, yet the feelings kept spilling over, out of his control. He tried hard not to think of Evan after meeting him again for the first time in months, but not long after he had left the restaurant after his first meeting with the guys, Evan shot through his thoughts at every chance there was.

Simply walking down the street back to their hotel and passing by a gift store with an owl plushy in the window display made him think of Evan and how much he liked owls. Before he'd even had time to process what he was doing, he had already purchased the owl plushy and caught up to Luke. He then spent the night pondering why he had done that, and how he would give it to Evan just as a friend.

And when he did give the gift to Evan, his heart could have imploded into a million fragments from the sheer desire to confess how he felt, right there and then. It took all the restraint in the world for him to look away from the man he loved so dearly, the man who let an adorable side of him shine through just for a second. He had to breathe and remind himself that he couldn't feel that way, not while he was trying to be a good friend to Evan.

And Evan throughout the entire of that day, too. The little match made their friendship feel so familiar for the first time in a long time. But the moment their hands met, the warmth and the electric tingle that ran through his fingers just reminded him how unattainable Evan was for him. He'd have ran away if not for the fact that he didn't want to make Evan think that he hated him. In retrospect, he was right to not have run away and stayed away, not when Evan looked so lost and uncomfortable during the panel. The man had emanated the very sort of discomfort that was covered up professionally by a face of candor, the very sort that Jonathan knew all too well. He was right to not have left Evan's side. Yet, watching Evan talk, listening to his voice and knowing that Evan was cracking under the public attention, all that made the torture all the more painful. He was barred to Jonathan, and Jonathan had to be just a good friend.

Jonathan rolled onto his back and let out a year's worth of loud sighs. The second day of PAX had rolled around, with the clock on his phone reading 3:17A.M. He had spent more than three full hours awake in the dark, thinking of Evan, thinking of a person that he wasn't supposed to consider a potential love interest any longer. _Damn it, Jonathan. He's a friend. Just a friend. I don't care what you feel for him, he's just a friend. He wants it this way._ He sighed heavily once more, his heart unconvinced by his own urging.

"I can hear you in my sleep," Luke groused sleepily. "I swear to god, you make more noise when you can't sleep than when you can."

"Sorry."

Luke sighed and turned onto his side reluctantly, looking at Jonathan with sleep-ridden eyes. "Penny for your thoughts."

"I think I'm going crazy."

"You're always crazy. Nothing's changed about that fact."

"No… I mean…" Jonathan sighed again. "Have you ever wanted something really bad, so much that you can't help it, but you know you can't get it and probably shouldn't get it?"

"This is about Evan, isn't it?" Luke murmured, his eyelids shutting slowly once more. "That whole 'He doesn't want me, so I'm not gonna make him want me' thing?"

"He doesn't, Luke."

"He _does_. And _you_ want him. I'm not gonna waste my breath or my sleep trying to convince you, dude."

"But he said he doesn't. And I… it's not easy watching him struggle when he's getting too much attention. It's not even easy seeing him happy, much less seeing him happy to see me. It's too much, Luke. Luke?"

A soft snore had risen again from the older man's mouth. Luke was fast asleep once more, not listening to Jonathan or his doubts. He was all alone, driven nearly insane by them. He lay back in bed and stared at the ceiling, watching as the darkness swirled before him.

He had no idea when he fell asleep, or how he managed to even fall asleep. All he knew was that after what felt like mere moments later, his eyes shot open to see light flooding into the room through the curtains, and with the lamps in the hotel room dimmed. His head spun slightly as he sat up in bed and looked around. Luke was nowhere to be seen – his bed was empty and the bathroom doors were ajar, revealing a completely vacant space.

He reached out towards his phone on the table by his bedside, only to find a piece of paper underneath it. Curious, he shifted his phone aside to reveal Luke's handwriting scrawled across the page –

"Good morning, or afternoon or whenever you wake up. I hope you slept well. I'd say I hope you had sweet dreams, but you weren't making noises so I thought it's one of those times when you were so exhausted you just straight up collapsed and didn't even dream of anything. Anyway, I couldn't wake you. You were pretty much sleeping like a log, which I expected to happen since you only slept for, what, three hours? I don't know. I don't even know what time you woke me up with your goddamned sighing. Anyway, I'll tell the guys about you needing some extra sleep. You haven't even been sleeping well these few days, anyway. We'll all be at the convention center until dinner time, just walking around and checking out games until our fan meet-up in the afternoon. Give me a call when you're there – NO DETOURS. If you're still not up by then, call me whenever you're up and stay in the hotel. I'll come back to bring you to wherever we're having dinner and drinks. Luke."

 _Oh, god. How long did I sleep?_

A press of a button on his phone screen – 12:38P.M. He had slept the whole morning away and he had completely missed a morning of checking out games at the convention. He scrambled to his feet hastily to wash up and get dressed. A small growl sounded from his stomach, and he groaned. _Food before getting to them_ , _I guess_.

* * *

Evan looked around through the crowd that was beginning to surround him. The face he had wanted to see was nowhere to be found. Luke had told them that he was finally catching up on his sleep, but even after the entire morning, he was still nowhere to be found. As the crowd closed in, surrounding him and his friends, he exchanged a despaired look with Luke, and the man shrugged.

"Hi, uh, Vanoss?" A young boy approached. "Big fan of your videos. Could you sign this for me?"

Evan took a long, deep breath, and the mask of professionalism was put on again. His lips curved themselves into the most perfect and sincere smile he could muster. "Sure. What's your name?"

"Kevin."

"Alright then," he took the autograph book from the young boy and signed, the professional grin never leaving his face. "For Kevin."

He watched as the young boy's eyes sparkled in delight as he received the autograph from his idol, and as the boy stuttered out his thanks and hopped off the show off the signature to a friend, a momentary warmth filled him – a warmth that came from the joy of being appreciated. The feeling faded out quickly enough to give way to panic as the eager crowd before him thickened. He was about to be swarmed by people who wanted an autograph or a picture from him. Not a single face in the crowd was the one that he needed to see, badly.

Resigned, he began to work through the countless amounts of fans and fan requests. Signature after signature, photograph after photograph, each interaction a cycle of mild panic and then momentary joy. It was the same thing every single time. He was happy enough to know that people liked what he did, and he did like putting a face to a portion of the millions that he had entertained. He tried his hardest to keep reminding himself of that fact. The immense attention he was getting in a public setting, however, made him question all that he tried to tell himself.

As the crowd began to finally thin, a pair of pale, thin hands slid a small notebook into his hands. The notebook was clear of signatures, with a small line of words scribbled hastily through the middle of the page – "It's all okay. They just want to show their appreciation for you. Hang in there for a bit more!"

"Could you sign this for me?" A voice said. The voice was more than familiar, yet the accent that usually came with it was off, and the voice was deeper and lower than usual. Evan looked up, tracing his eyes across the dark blue hoodie that the person wore. Jonathan stared back out at him from underneath the hood of his jacket. Whatever composure Evan had then was nearly lost.

"Uh, sure." Evan nearly stammered, his voice wavering. A flick of his marker and his signature appeared across the page. "What's your name…?"

"Jonathan."

"Alright…For Jonathan." Evan mumbled as he scribbled on the page – "Thank you. You're a great person, Jonathan."

With an appreciative smile, he handed the notebook back to Jonathan. "Here you go."

"Thank you… Vanoss."

Jonathan sidled away from him into a small corner nearby with a small forlorn smile on his face. Evan's attention never left him, and he was always aware of the man in the corner waiting for his friends. Jonathan's presence gave him an immense amount of comfort, calming him and steadying his nerves.

When the last of the crowd began to shift away, the sun was beginning to set slightly, casting an orange hue upon them. As the guys began to re-group, Jonathan walked slowly towards them, hood still cautiously over his head.

"Hey look, the sleepyhead is finally here," Marcel called out.

"Did you have sweet dreams?" Brock chuckled.

"Not really," Jonathan replied. "More like a blackout."

"Well, you missed out a whole bunch. Tons of cool new games that we played without you."

"Aw," Jonathan pouted. "I guess I'll check them out all on my own tomorrow. Dinner and drinks?"

"Dinner and drinks."

* * *

The small gastropub was packed. Loud music blasted through speakers and all around was even louder laughter and people speaking at the very top of their voices. The guys sat huddled close to one another at a large table, arms brushing at every movement. The table was soon filled with plates of food as well as various glasses of drinks, and almost as soon as the food appeared, it disappeared, leaving the tabletop full of alcoholic drinks.

"That's a lot of alcohol," Jonathan noted as a tray of suspiciously clear liquids set themselves on the table.

"Hey, go hard or go home, right?" Marcel yelled over the commotion. "Unless you're Luke, but he's our safety net for when we become drunk bastards later."

"At your service," Luke replied. "What's up with that many drinks, anyway?"

"Drinking game. You always need a damn drinking game."

"Yep. Never have I ever?" Craig asked to nods around the table. "Okay, ground rules. For every strike, you have to down a drink on this table. That is to say – either a shot of vodka, a martini, or a small mug of beer. If something you want isn't on the table, too bad, settle for something else. Alright? I'll start."

Craig cleared his throat. "Never have I ever…taken a shower with a guy."

Evan shot a dark look at Craig, who winked back cheekily in response. "Damn you," he growled.

"Why, taken one with a guy before?" Tyler asked inquisitively.

"I was a kid, okay," Evan explained in annoyance. "And don't you guys take baths with your siblings when you were kids at the very least?"

"Yeah, except it doesn't matter that much when you don't remember it," Craig answered. "Drink up, man."

Three hands shot out to the glasses at the center of the table. Evan picked out a shot of vodka alongside Marcel, whilst Jonathan settled for a martini, and upon picking their drinks, the three shot confused looks at each other.

"You, too?" Marcel gaped at Jonathan. "I mean, I remember some of mine with my brother, but if I remember correctly you just have a _sister_."

"Someone I used to date," Jonathan said in a small voice. "Go ahead, give me shit for that."

"Shit, man," Tyler began. "But we're not really surprised, to be honest. You're always so… I don't know..."

"What he's trying to say is, you're always so fabulous." Craig finished. "Drink up, you fucks."

Evan sighed, defeated, and tipped the contents of the shot glass into his mouth, feeling the burn of the strong alcohol hit his throat as he swallowed. It was as though he was swallowing a mouthful of cold flames, and he choked slightly, coughing and sputtering.

"God, that was strong," he coughed out. "I didn't think it would be that strong."

"Pft," Brock chuckled. "We're only getting started. Okay, my turn. I'll do it for Luke too, then, since he's not playing. Never have we ever gotten really, really wasted."

"How much is really, really wasted?" Jonathan frowned slightly.

"Let's just say… so wasted you don't even remember what you were doing. Own up, motherfuckers." Luke grinned triumphantly.

Almost all the people at the table reached out for a drink, and Evan reached out for another shot of vodka, downing the cold burning liquid in one go once more. He could already feel the buzz in his head growing.

"My turn, I guess." Jonathan swallowed the last bit of beer, making a face. "Never have I ever been to more than one country in my life."

"Really?! You had to pick that one?!" Craig groaned out loud and reached for a martini. The rest began to follow suit and picked their poison, Evan included. For what felt like the umpteenth time that night, he downed another shot of vodka. _There is no way I'm not getting wasted tonight_.

"Seriously though? Not even to Canada or Mexico?" Lui queried as he swallowed the last of his beer.

"You can change the question to 'more than five states' and he'd still be in the clear." Luke grinned. "He's a damn homebody."

"Speaking of countries, then…Never have I ever been to Canada." Tyler smiled deviously. "Drink up, snowman."

"This is unfair, you guys are targeting me specifically with these." Evan whined as he chose the glass of beer this time.

"There aren't any rules that said we couldn't."

"Then I'll shoot this next one at you. Never have I ever _lived in_ a Southern state." Evan shot back without thinking.

A soft whine rose from one side of the table as Jonathan and Tyler both reached for their drinks. "Someday, Evan, that won't be true," Tyler warned as he downed a shot. _Yeah, someday_ , Evan thought. _Someday…_

After an entire round around the table, some specific statements directed mainly at Evan, and countless glasses and shots of alcohol, the table was for the most part tipsy. Most of the guys were flushed from the alcohol intake, and some were drunkenly giggling themselves silly. For Evan, the world swirled around him, and everything seemed distorted and funny to him. His head felt heavy, yet his body felt incredibly light, as though he was being lifted by strings in the air.

"I think I'm done," he heard Jonathan slur slightly. "I want to catch a nap or something."

"Aw," Lui whined. "Don't leave us. We're about to go bar-hopping. It's tradition."

"You mean it's tradition to bring the less drunk people along so you guys can get totally wasted." Luke corrected. "It's okay, Jonathan. I'll bring you back."

"I'll be fine, Luke." Jonathan tried to reassure. "I can take care of myself. These freaks need you more than I do."

Evan tried to suppress a loud hiccough, and countless pairs of eyes turned towards him. "Oops," he giggled, swaying in his seat.

"Okay, fine." Luke frowned. "Do us all a favor and take Evan back to his hotel, too. He's had one too many shots and I don't think me and Brock can handle that many drunkards. And don't get jumped."

"I don't know where…" Jonathan began.

"It's just a street down, just opposite that building with the annoying green lights. Once you see that the hotel's just opposite."

Evan felt an arm wrap around his, pulling his body up and supporting it. After a few murmured goodbyes from Jonathan to the rest, the two men stumbled out into the cold night, snow beneath their feet. Evan giggled as the cold air brushed against his face, tickling him.

"Hey," He laughed softly. "Didn't this happen sometime before? Me being stupid drunk and you helping me."

"Yeah," Jonathan sighed. "Except… I'm a little lost. I don't even know which direction to go in."

Evan looked at him, almost seeing patterns swirl across Jonathan's face. He chuckled softly and swiveled about, looking for signs of familiarity whilst he held on to Jonathan's shivering body.

"Are you cold?" Evan asked, slurring over his words. "You're shivering."

He took a closer, clearer look at the man. There was an oddly demented look in his eyes, and his complexion was paler than usual. Jonathan was not shivering because of the cold. He was panicking, shaking out of fear.

"Relax, man. I'm here." Evan coaxed softly. "I know where to go, so don't worry. I've been here so many times."

"Says the drunk person." Jonathan retorted, his lips quivering.

"Trust me," Evan breathed, drawing closer to Jonathan and holding onto his arm as he lost his balance once more. He pointed ahead of them and instructed, "Just go down this way and across the street, then turn left. The hotel's hidden behind that building over there."

"Are you sure you're drunk?" Jonathan asked, incredulous. "You're pretty clear-headed for once."

Evan threw his head back in a laugh. "This is just memory for me, my young padawan."

"Fuck you."

"Just move before we either freeze to death or I throw up on you."

A while later, the duo staggered into the warmth of a hotel lobby and made their way towards an elevator. Upon Evan's instruction, Jonathan located Evan's keycard and swiped it, before pressing a few buttons and sending the pair upwards.

Impulsively, perhaps, Evan's hands began to wander, making its way down Jonathan's arm. He grasped Jonathan's hands tightly, feeling the cold, shaking fingers against his palm.

"Your hands are cold and clammy." Evan pointed out. "It's okay now, isn't it? We're safe and warm."

A strange compulsion arose as he peered into the wide blue eyes of the man before him. He wanted to grab him and take him by the lips, to kiss the beautiful little pink mound on his face and feel the man's beauty for himself. He stupidly considered allowing the impulse to take over for a moment as he closed in on Jonathan.

"Evan," Jonathan gasped, edging backwards. "I'm fine, it's just the cold –"

"You were shaking, too." He moved in further. He could feel Jonathan's heavy breath against his skin, and he could smell the alcohol from his breath. _How sweet. I just wish I could taste it._

Ding.

The elevator doors opened, revealing an empty, dimly- lit hallway. Reluctantly, Evan pulled away from Jonathan and made his way out of the elevator, with a dazed Jonathan trailing behind. A few steps down the hallway and another swipe of the keycard led them into Evan's room, with the lights flickering on as another keycard was shoved into the power switch after numerous drunken attempts.

Something bright blue hanging out from his luggage bag caught his eye, and a cloudy memory surfaced in his head.

"Oh, right, uh" Evan murmured, stumbling over to grab the sky blue shirt from his bag. "I never returned it to you after that time. I've washed it and it's clean and all. Sorry for keeping it for so long."

He handed the fabric over to Jonathan, who took it graciously from him. "Thanks. I actually forgot all about it."

"Jonathan?" Evan called out softly as he lay on his head, feeling the spinning feeling suspend itself.

"Hm?"

"Do you… do you hate me…? After all that's happened…?" Evan slowly began. "I mean – you've been acting… kind of weird, like you don't want to be around me."

"Why would I hate you?"

"Because I hurt you. And I'm so sorry I did. I really didn't mean to…"

"No, no – Evan, listen." Jonathan interrupted. "Don't be sorry. I should be sorry. I ruined everything between you and Sarah. I should be the one wondering if you hated me."

Evan frowned, closing his eyes. "I don't. I've been worrying all this time if you hated me. But I don't hate you, Jonathan. Nobody can. You've been such a great friend… and more."

The air in the room stilled as a silence grew. Evan could feel the words dancing on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to say it. He wanted Jonathan to know how he felt for him.

"Jonathan, I –"

"Evan," Jonathan interrupted once more, this time with a desperate sharpness in his voice. "You're drunk, Evan. Don't say a thing more. Just sleep it off. I'll see you tomorrow."

And with a click of the door, he was out. Evan sighed, the darkness filling his head. _Another opportunity lost._

* * *

Jonathan stood outside the door of Evan's room, slumped against the wall. Holding the sky blue shirt to his chest, he tried to breathe – _inhale, exhale._ His heart was pounding against his chest, hammering away at his confidence. He had been close, so close to spilling his feelings for Evan. The words were right there – _I can't hate you, Evan. I can't. I love you._

But a million invisible steel cables held him back, restraining him. Each cable a conviction, a safety net for their friendship. He had resolved so long ago to never let Evan know, to be a good friend to Evan. He had tried so hard to keep it that way.

Except his heart was disagreeing. His heart was palpitating, each beat thrumming furiously against his chest for the man inside the room.

* * *

 _I'm so sorry if this chapter was really dry, and if things are going so slowly! I'm expecting chapter 15 to go in a similar direction so please don't kill me! Either way, I'm really glad that I've managed to come this far with this story that I decided to start writing on a whim. I'm also very thankful for everyone that has stuck around and read this story and supported this story. The story has a little bit more to go, so I do hope you guys can hang around for a bit longer. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and stay tuned for the next!_

 _-delmin_


	15. Chapter 15 - Bridge

"Man, I can't believe the weekend flew by just like that." Marcel groaned, stretching as the group began their final walk away from the convention center for the year. "Another PAX East over."

"On the bright side, this year was pretty eventful. Even more people attended compared to the past years, the crowd at our fan meet-up was bigger than the past years, and we got to meet Jonathan for the first time in person." Brock cajoled, gently patting Marcel's back. "It's a pretty big step up from the last time."

"It's _exactly why_ it sucks now that it's ended," Marcel argued. "All that fun ended way too soon. I wish I could stay here longer. You guys just don't feel the pain because you guys are all going back to your girlfriends. I'm going back to missing my girl."

Craig cleared his throat, and Marcel rolled his eyes. "Okay, _most_ of you guys are going back to your girlfriends. But even then, not having one is better than having one and not getting to see her."

"Aw," Craig slung his arm around Marcel. "Come on, someday it'll all work out and you'll get to see her again. And I'll be the only one dating my hand."

"Ew, get that away from me!" Marcel flinched and pushed Craig's arm off his shoulders in mock disgust. "Don't touch me with that."

Evan laughed softly and gently patted Marcel's shoulder comfortingly. "It's okay. I'm pretty much going to be alone after I go back too, so if you ever find the house too quiet, you can always call me up for a game. I'd be willing to share the time with another lonely guy."

"That sounds wrong." Marcel made a face.

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do, but you're not the only other single guy in this group, so don't make it sound like it's a date between the two of us. For all we know, Jonathan is going to spend his time at home all alone too. Go share your time with that lonely guy."

Evan peered over his shoulder, stealing a quick glance at the small hooded figure trailing behind them, seemingly consumed in his own world of thoughts. "No," He said slowly. "I don't think he'd like that."

"So what makes you think I'd like that, huh?" Marcel challenged, raising a brow in amusement. "I don't need your pity party, dude. I'll live even if she's not here with me all the time. It's not like Skype doesn't exist. It just kind of sucks not having her with me physically, and you can't do anything to fix that, because you guys are you guys and she's… her. Your kindness is appreciated, but really, I'd really just like to have either her or nobody."

"Whatever you say, dude. As long as you're happy." Evan shrugged.

"Dude, I _am_ happy. Happy that I have friends that care enough to say gay as fuck shit to me, happy that I'm doing what I want. I'll just be really, really happy, like the happiest man on earth, if she's around. She completes my world, man. I'm happy, but I'm not complete without her around."

Evan peeked at Jonathan from the corners of his eyes and let out a soft, distracted sigh. "I get what you mean."

"Anyway, on to something less serious. Luke, you were saying something about some mountain cottage…?" Marcel diverted the subject abruptly.

"Oh, yeah. Jonathan's got a pretty sick mountain cabin recently –"

"Your gift," Jonathan interjected from behind the group.

"Whatever. I might've plotted with his parents and some people to make that happen, but he's got a pretty sick cabin in the mountains recently. Great view, and the breeze there is great in the morning too. I just thought it'd be great if you guys got a chance to spend a weekend there or somethin'. Unless Jonathan here doesn't want you guys around."

Luke peered over his shoulder behind him, and Jonathan said after a pause – "What? I'm not objecting to anything."

"Then it's settled. All of us in the mountains one of these days, all together."

"When, though?" Evan queried. "I mean – I've got some stuff to settle back at L.A., so I'm out for a bit."

"That's fine. I was thinking around Jonathan's birthday, actually. So we all get to celebrate it with him."

"What?!" Jonathan piped up, indignant as he began to catch up with the group. "Dude, I told you before, I don't need a celebration for my birthday."

"Yeah, yeah, you always say that and then you have a great time." Luke rolled his eyes and slung his arm around Jonathan. "Face it, the only thing you don't like about your birthday is the fact that you're gettin' older. All that complainin' about the celebrations and it's only this one small thing that bothers you to hell."

Jonathan pouted slightly. "There's nothing good about being old."

"It doesn't matter, does it?" Brock asked quizzically. "I mean… me, Lui and Luke are all older than you guys but I don't think any of us have felt any older than you guys. Heck, I barely feel any older than Mini."

"It's not that," Jonathan replied. "It's just that… time passes so fast. Life is just flashing by. It's gone before you know it."

A thoughtful silence fell upon the group. Nobody had anything else to say – there was nothing to discuss, for it was a fact that they all knew was true.

Craig was the first to break the silence. He spoke, awkwardness apparent in his voice – "Well… I guess that's why we do what we want, right? YouTube, our lives right now… it's because life is so short, so we've got to live the way we want… right?"

"Yeah," Evan laughed softly in agreement. "And I'm glad I'm doing it with all of you guys. Seriously. I'm nothing without all of you. You guys make my life, in one way or another."

* * *

Evan stepped into the cool of the arrival hall of the airport, a small suitcase rattling away behind him as he strutted through the crowd of people waiting at the gates with signs and phones in their hands. He frowned as he looked through the thick crowd for a face – _where is he?_

Luke was nowhere to be found. There was not a single sign of the tall bearded man anywhere, and there was nobody calling out for him nor a sign with his name written on it. Luke was simply not there, even though the man had promised everyone months back at PAX East that he would pick them up in separate groups to get to their little holiday getaway in the mountains.

 _Where the hell is he?_

Defeated, Evan reached into his pockets for his phone. When he finally turned the device on, a flurry of messages and notifications came in, and his phone buzzed furiously in his hand as if for desperate attention.

The first of what seemed like a billion messages came from Luke – "Hey dude, I can't pick you up at the airport. Something cropped up with the girlfriend and I can't be there at the airport at the moment. I've asked Jonathan to pick you up so he should be there. Unless he died or is still being a sleeping god or something."

Evan frowned, and began to scroll through his other messages. Countless messages from various sources later, the first message from Jonathan appeared – "Have you landed yet?"

A few messages down, another message from Jonathan appeared on his screen. "Luke told me to pick you up, but I don't see you. I've even double-checked the flight time with him. Where are you?"

Another few messages down – "I don't see you. I don't see the point in continuing the message you if your phone is turned off. I tried calling you and I got sent to your voicemail straight off the bat. I give up, I'll be waiting for you somewhere at the arrival gates."

A few more messages down – "Change of plan, there are way too many people at the gates. Call me when you're here and finally see this, I'll be somewhere near."

Evan spun around on the spot, his eyes scanning through the throngs of people surrounding him, searching for the mesmerizing blue that was also nowhere to be found. It took a moment of searching around before he spotted a figure slumped behind a pillar, with a familiar hand holding a phone, tapping away at the screen rapidly with a thumb. Evan unlocked his phone, uncertain, and dialed for Jonathan.

The call connected quickly, and the figure drew the phone to his face, hand vanishing out of sight behind the pillar.

"Evan?" Jonathan asked, anxiousness coloring his tone. "Where in the world are you? I've been trying to reach you for the past – I don't know, forever."

Evan began walking towards the pillar, footsteps speeding up with each step that he took. "Well…I only _just_ turned my phone on. I think I see you."

The figure behind the pillar straightened up, coming back into Evan's view. He watched as Jonathan held the phone closer to his ear and looked around for a moment, confused. "Where?"

He closed in onto Jonathan, mere inches behind him –

"Behind you."

Jonathan swung around instantly, eyes wide with a confused wonder. The blue in his eyes were brighter than ever under the intense light of the airport, and the white of the light created little glassy shimmers in the beautiful blues. A small shocked gasp escaped his lips as he saw Evan just in front of him, just a little too close. Within Evan's chest, he felt his heart take off, beating a little faster, a little harder for the man before him. _How adorable._

"Uh, hi." Evan began with a small wave. "It's been some time since I've been here. Kind of weird now that I'm back after the… well, the last time."

Jonathan winced slightly at the memory. "Yeah. The last time you were here. With Sarah."

"And now I'm back on my own. God, it's weird even talking about it. Can we change the subject?" _Damn it._

"Luke had better pay me for this. This was his job!" Jonathan groused as he led Evan away from the arrival area. "And _he_ was the one that invited everybody. I mean – I don't have a problem with this, but if he's going to do this, then he shouldn't be throwing his job to me, am I right?"

"Yep." Evan nodded in agreement. "He's at fault."

"I knew it. You'll have to tell him that." Jonathan grabbed at the air before him triumphantly. "Anyway, because Luke is an idiot, he probably didn't stock the place with food, so we'll have to go pick up some at one of the restaurants around here. I hope you're fine with meatloaf?"

"Yeah. Why?"

He watched as Jonathan licked his lips. "We're gonna get some of my favorite meatloaf."

Moments later, they were in Jonathan's car, an odd, offbeat silence resuming between them. Evan had rarely run out of things to say around Jonathan, and the unusual silence that consumed them both was a first for him. It made him uncomfortable in every way. He felt obliged to talk, to make a conversation happened, yet he felt as though nothing would come of it, as the distance between him and Jonathan widened.

"Uh… so… how are you these days?" Evan started awkwardly. "I mean… Have you been well?"

Jonathan drove on, not looking away from the road. "Fine, fine. Therapy's done, and the doctors have pretty much cleared me now. Fell sick again a few weeks back, but I'm good now, too. I just have to remind myself not to scream so much for now. Otherwise, I'm great. You?"

"Not much either. Moved out of my apartment and have been crashing at a friend's place for the past couple of weeks. It's a little weird, but I'll get used to it, just like how I got used to L.A. after I moved from Canada." Evan frowned slightly at Jonathan, and added, "You really should take care of yourself better, you know. You get sick more often than a normal person does."

"I _do_ ," Jonathan retorted. "I take care of myself perfectly fine, thank you very much. I'm just a lot more prone to the occasional sore throat."

"'Occasional' is what you call it? Sure thing." Evan replied. "How's everything else, though?"

"What do you – oh, right." Jonathan gripped the driving wheel a little tighter, his knuckles turning white from the force. There was a strain in his voice as he spoke again, as though there it was a nasty topic to talk about.

"Testified against Eric recently. Absolutely _amazing_ experience. Won't ever forget that look on his face when he saw me again." Jonathan managed a nervous laugh.

"Dude…" Evan began, concerned.

"No, I'm fine. I'm just really glad I don't have to see him again for a while, hopefully a really long while." Jonathan breathed, his voice shaky. "It's just… difficult to look at his face and not think of what happened. And I thought I got over it all a long time ago."

In that moment, Evan felt a strong urge to reach over to Jonathan, to make contact with the man so far out there, and to touch him, to make Jonathan feel less alone and less afraid. He wanted so much for Jonathan to be fine, and he wished he could hold Jonathan's hand, ease the steadily whitening knuckles on the steering wheel and whisper softly into Jonathan's ear that everything was all fine, that Eric could not touch him now.

But no matter what he felt, there was always a distance between him and Jonathan, a rift that seemed impassable, and a gap that he could not bridge alone. Jonathan was right next to him, yet he seemed so far away, lost to him. Defeated, Evan let out a small sigh.

"Don't feel sorry for me, Evan." Jonathan said in a small voice. "Don't."

"I'm not… it's just… I wish I could help you. I wish I could do something more, especially after all that's happened, especially after the only thing I've done to help you in that area is to break you further."

Jonathan glanced over at Evan for a split second before returning his eyes to the road. "You've done a lot more for me than you thought, Evan."

"I didn't do anything. I just left you to rot when you needed me the most."

"Evan… just… don't blame yourself. I don't hate you, I can't. I told you before. So please… don't hate yourself if I don't."

After a short pause, Jonathan spoke again, this time in a higher, more joyful tone. "Anyway, this restaurant they're going to makes some _killer_ meatloaf. Place has been there for nearly 20 years and I swear the taste hasn't changed a single bit. It used to be one of the go-to places my dad would bring the family to every once in a while when he got a bonus in his paycheck."

Jonathan sighed, nostalgia tinkling away in his voice. "My family would have little feasts there. My sister used to fight me for the mash, too."

Evan chuckled softly. "I can't imagine."

"Her fighting me for the mash or me fighting?" Jonathan asked jokingly.

"You as a kid." Evan smiled at him. _How adorable he must've been_. "Well, and both of that, actually, now that you mention it."

"Wow. You think I didn't get into fights as a kid?"

"No, I just didn't think you'd fight over mash." Evan lied smoothly. Upon seeing the disbelieving look on Jonathan's face, however, he gave in –

"Okay, fine, I thought you didn't. You kind of… don't seem like you'd have been able to hold up in one."

Jonathan made a face. "I never did. Hold my own, that is. I'd be the one beaten up. But that doesn't mean I never got into fights."

"Figured, anyway. You'd be too good to beat someone else up."

"Fuck you. Anyway, Luke was pretty skeptical of it until he had it the first time. He got converted pretty hard. I think he's addicted now, so I think he'll be really glad when he sees that we're bringing that to the party."

"Is it really that good?" Evan raised an eyebrow.

"It is. Don't even try to doubt it. You'll love it. It'll knock you off your feet when you try it. Anyway, we're here."

They pulled over by a family restaurant, the exterior minimalistic and simple. Through the glass windows, however, Evan could make out extremely homely decorations and furnishings. The restaurant was packed despite the time of the day, where the sun hung high in the sky and blazed down on the earth, scorching it and its inhabitants. As they entered, the restaurant was abuzz, with people talking at the top of their voices. Jonathan gave Evan a triumphant smirk, as if to say – "I told you so."

"Oh my, if it isn't my dear sweet pea," a short, dark-skinned elderly lady called out from the far end of a counter. "How're you doin'?"

She lumbered over, taking Jonathan into a tight, motherly embrace. "I haven't seen you in a long time. You've lost so much weight, look!" She grabbed at Jonathan's wrist and arms, pinching away gently at it. Jonathan could only smile sheepishly at her.

"I'm fine, Mrs. V."

She tutted disapprovingly. "You gotta come here more often, you know. I keep wonderin' if you're okay, and then you come back skinny as a beanpole. And who's this fine young man you brought with ya?"

Evan felt her deep, dark eyes trace up and down his body, examining him from head to toe.

"He's just… a friend of mine."

"Really?" She raised an eyebrow. "Well, he's a good lookin' boy. Nicely built, as well, just like how you _should_ be. You're too skinny for your own good. Even that other boy that you bring in has some meat on his bones."

"Uh, thanks." Evan beamed slightly at her.

She returned his smile whole-heartedly, sincerity shining through her every feature. "The usual, my dear?"

Jonathan nodded – "The usual. Take-away, though, we're going up the mountains to meet up with some friends."

"Alright, sweet pea. Do you two want a couple of bagels to hold you both down on the way up?"

Jonathan looked at Evan for a second, before answering, "Actually, sure. A bagel sounds good."

She shot a crooked smile at him. "I knew you couldn't resist. I'll go tell the kitchen."

She hobbled into the back of the compound with an air of authority, and Evan could swore he heard loud commands being issued in the kitchen. He glanced over at Jonathan, who had taken a seat by the counter in wait for the food.

"You seem to know her well," Evan commented as he slid down on the seat beside him.

"I've been here since I was a kid, remember? And… well… she remembers her regulars well. She doesn't remember their names, but she sure as hell remembers their faces and what they like. That's also part of what keeps the business here booming. She's always so personable and she makes everyone feel like they're home here. That and the food's really good. And so everyone keeps coming back."

"Like YouTube." Evan laughed softly. "And you're not only a fan of her content, you're a fan of her."

"You'd be a fan of her too if you've stuck around long enough. And the food, Evan, don't tell me you're still doubting that. I'm hungry just thinking of it."

"You get hungry just about over anything, even listening to Nogla eat a banana."

Jonathan narrowed his eyes dangerously at him just as the proprietor came strolling back with two small paper bags in her hands. Her gaze was curious, with a hint of suspicion about her, as though she was examining the both of them, piecing things together bit by bit.

"Here's the bagels, sweetie. The meatloaf's goin' but it shouldn't be too long before it comes outta the oven."

"Thanks, Mrs. V." Jonathan reached for his wallet, only for the elderly lady to protest.

"No, no – don't pay me directly, boy. I'll just end up forgettin' to put it in the till. The old brain ain't as young as it was twenty years back when you first came 'round. Give it to Matilda at the cashier."

Jonathan paused, and slid off the chair to pay at the cashier. The elderly lady closed in on Evan, her eyes searching deep within Evan's as though looking for an answer. Evan shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, and cleared his throat loudly.

"He likes you, you know that?" She said in a low voice. "All these years I ain't ever seen that boy look at anyone like that. That one boy ten years ago came close, but you… you're somethin' special to him. I ain't ever seen anythin' like that from him before. But then the way he acts around you is so different, you know that? Like he doesn't want to get too close. So I'm askin' you, what's wrong with you two?"

Evan sighed. "I don't know…I wish I knew. It's just… so many things have happened between us. I've hurt him before, and he says he doesn't hate me… but sometimes it just doesn't feel that way."

"But you like him. More than anythin'." She cooed gently, her maternal feelings apparent. "You like to hide, but I've seen people. You can't hide from me. You like him and you wanna tell him. Now, I don't know what's been goin' on between you two, but you two need a good talk."

"Everybody says that. But I can never find a chance to talk to him properly. We're either surrounded by friends or I chimp out at the last moment."

"My boy," She said as she lay a hand over his, "Chances don't come easily. If you can't find them, make 'em. He's probably waiting for a chance, too. If none of you take it in your hands to make a chance happen, then you'll both miss it forever."

She looked over to where Jonathan was standing by the cashier, her eyes glimmering. "I've almost watched him grow up. He's a sweet boy, you know? And you look like a good boy, too, someone reliable. I don't want him to go and get hurt, and I don't wanna see the two of you sufferin' like that. If something's broken, fix it. Take every chance you got, make every chance you can, and show him how you feel. And if I'm not wrong, believe me, I'm almost never wrong, he feels the same way too."

Evan opened his mouth and shut it a few times, not knowing what to say. He wished he could believe her fully. He wished he could outright tell Jonathan how he felt, and he wished that he knew for certain that Jonathan felt the same way – but he couldn't. Deep inside, the conflict deepened.

"You don't believe me – you don't want to. That's fine," She patted his hand gently. "You will soon. I know you're scared, and believe me, that's a huge part of bein' in love. You're lookin' for ways for him to be happy, and as much as you love him, you don't think you're the one to make him happy, after whatever's happened. But the boy's no liar. If he says he doesn't hate you, he doesn't. If he's hidin' his feelings from you, he can't hide long. If you ain't gonna believe me, at least believe him."

Evan looked down at their hands and sighed. He _was_ scared, hesitant to hear and believe something that was so ideal for him.

"What're you two talking about?" Jonathan's voice invaded his thoughts, and he quickly glanced up at the beautiful man, his heart skipping a beat as the wonder that was Jonathan filled his view. Through the buzz, he heard a soft chuckle from the elderly woman as she released his hands.

"Oh, nothin' much, sweet pea. I'll think the kitchen should be done with the food now, I'll go and check in on 'em." She said dismissively as she walked away back into the kitchen, leaving Jonathan and Evan to themselves.

"Nothing?" Jonathan asked incredulously. "That seemed like a really intense talk."

"What do you want us to talk about then? You?"

"I'd think you guys were gossiping about me behind my back."

"You make me sound like a gossipmonger." Evan shot back at Jonathan.

"You probably are. God knows what you've been telling her. She loves a good true story. It's something that comes with age. It's gotten to the point that she's grabbing onto whoever she can find for a chat these days, so I won't be surprised if you spilled."

"You're being paranoid. Go pick up the food, I think it's ready."

Jonathan stuck his tongue out at him and slid off the chair once more to collect the food from the proprietor, who emerged from the plain-looking kitchen with a bag in her hands. After a short moment's of consideration, Evan slid off the chair as well and joined Jonathan at the other end of the counter, his heart beating a little faster as he got closer to the man.

The lady thrust the bag into Jonathan's hands. "Now, don't wait too long to eat it. And make sure you eat lots, you're a bag of bones. Are you going to see that friend of yours… your 'brother' later?"

Jonathan nodded slowly, to which she continued – "Well then tell him to come on down soon. I haven't seen that boy in forever. And that girl of his – they should get married soon. They're a pretty pair. He won't listen to me, but he might listen to you."

"Nah, I don't think Luke will listen to me either. He's taking things one step at a time. If he wants to keep things this way, let him keep things this way. I don't think anyone can make him do anything he doesn't want to, not even me."

The elderly woman shrugged. "I'm just sayin'. And you, too, you gotta take whatever comes your way, alright? I don't wanna see you stay lonely like that."

"I'm not lonely, Mrs. V." Jonathan assured in a less than convincing tone.

"Sure you aren't." The lady rolled her eyes, and turned to Evan. "And you, take care of this boy, alright? He doesn't like me sayin' this because he thinks he can take care of himself –"

"I _can_ ," Jonathan interrupted sharply.

" – But he needs a bit more care than most other people, so keep an eye on him, will ya? And remember what I said. Now off with you both! I gotta business to run."

With a flick of her hand, she shooed them away, and Evan and Jonathan were both soon out in the heat, walking towards the car with the food in their hands. Evan took a bit into his bagel, relishing the savory taste of the pastry in his mouth.

"You're right," he admitted. "It's actually really good."

Jonathan made a small muffled chortle of victory as he bit into his own bagel. "Told you so."

"Hey, I didn't knock it before I tried it. I just said you get hungry over pretty much anything involving food."

"And I didn't say you were knocking it. I'm just saying I told you so." Jonathan replied as he licked his lips, cleaning a small little crumb off the bottom of his lip. Evan felt a little piece of his heart get set on fire as he watched, and he ate, distracted. A soft giggle from Jonathan shook him from his trance, and he blinked stupidly for a moment.

"What?" Evan asked.

Jonathan reached out to him and gently flicked a few crumbs from the sides of Evan's mouth. "And you complain that I'm a messy eater."

"When did I...? _Oh._ " The memory from several months back came flooding into Evan's mind, with Evan dabbing away at the corners of Jonathan's lips with a napkin in a diner. " _You're the messiest eater I've ever seen since Nogla…_ "

"There you go again," Jonathan chided as he reached out to clean the other side of Evan's mouth. As he did, Evan felt a flutter in his chest – the feeling of sheer excitement and happiness racing about within him. He liked the feeling of Jonathan's soft skin against his, and he relished each and every gentle brush that he could feel. The heat was beginning to gather in his face, and he could almost feel the red flood into his cheeks.

Jonathan drew back, his fingers lingering for a small moment before it curled back into a tight ball of restraint. His gaze faltered, and Evan saw a small flame die out in his eyes as Jonathan turned away, quickly shifting and moving into the car. Evan followed after him, a dull ache coming and going as he felt the distance open up between them once more.

The drive up the mountains was relatively quiet. After a long moment of fighting himself on whether to come up with something to talk about, Evan resigned himself to staring out of the window and watching the countless green trees with the occasional red and orange pass by him. In the distance, the sun shone through the clouds, painting a soft yellow over the bright greens, contrasting with the darker, heavier olives of the trees in the distance that were clouded over by fog. It was as though he was watching a painting come to life as the colors shifted with the movements of the clouds in the wind, and Evan was drawn in by the serene beauty that was before him. More than once, he let out a soft, awe-filled gasp, a reaction that was followed by a hearty chuckle of his companion on the journey.

"You grew up here." Evan breathed softly as he watched the clouds shift over another patch of trees, the colors changing underneath it.

"Sort of."

"It's beautiful."

"You make it sound like you haven't ever seen mountains even back in Canada before."

"They're always so snowy and white. The colors are so beautiful here."

"I know. It's always really calming to look at them. You look like me when I was a kid. My face would be plastered to the window like what you're doing now." Jonathan sighed. "Kind of nostalgic, actually."

Evan looked back outside of the windows. "It's really pretty." _Just like you._

"I know," Jonathan repeated. "It gets better when we're closer to the top."

Evan's gaze never left the breathtaking scenery as they ascended up the mountain. The fog seemed to grow a little thicker and the trees seemed to grow farther away, and the colors seemed to deepen and darken with distance.

Evan was still immensely mesmerized by the sight as they finally pulled over by the cabin. Dazed, he got out of the car, and took a deep breath, the fresh, clean scent in the air filling him. It was an immensely refreshing experience to be surrounded by nature instead of the hustle and bustle of city life back in Los Angeles.

"Come on in," Jonathan invited, holding the door wide open as Evan trudged in slowly with his bag. "This is weird."

"Huh?" Evan turned towards him, confused.

"Luke isn't here. He said he'd be here with the guys by the time we'd finished getting all the stuff."

"It's still early. Maybe there was a hold-up at the airport, don't think too much about it. The place looks great, by the way."

Jonathan frowned, unconvinced. "Whatever it is, he's taking forever. I don't even know what he's so caught up with that he needs to pass his job over to _me_."

"He mentioned something about his girlfriend. I don't know what, exactly, but I suppose there's something he had to attend to with her."

The furrows on Jonathan's brow deepened. "Hannah seemed fine when I saw her earlier. She even told me to _have fun_."

"Oh." Evan answered simply, not quite understanding the situation. "I don't know. Maybe something happened to her suddenly after you saw her. Either way, you shouldn't worry too much. You've got to trust Luke on this one."

Jonathan sidled over to the fridge and opened it, still frowning. "It's not that I don't trust him. It's just that it's so unlike him to promise something and not follow up on it. He doesn't ever do it unless there's something seriously wrong. Anyway, do you want a –"

Jonathan stopped mid-sentence and stared into the fridge.

"What?" Evan asked, moving over to stand beside him.

"Someone's stocked the fridge." Jonathan pointed out. "We've only left a few bottles of water behind in here the last time we were here. I don't remember most of the things in here being here before."

"Come to think of it," Jonathan said after a pause, looking around, "This place looks almost insanely clean, and I haven't been here in ages."

Evan shrugged. "Luke has the keys, right? He might've just tidied the place in preparation for today. You're worrying yourself too much over nothing."

"I don't know. This feels really weird."

"Either way," Evan stretched lazily, "I just want to take a nice long shower and have a bit of a rest before the rest arrive. I'd expect them to hog the showers what with the long flights and everything, so I want to at least get that done before anything else happens."

"Come upstairs, then." Jonathan beckoned, and the two made their way to the second floor of the cabin. He pointed towards the larger of two rooms, and instructed –

"Use the bathroom in this one. It's larger and the water heats up much faster. Plus I'm pretty sure the bathtub is bigger."

"Geez," Evan laughed as he settled his bag down by the bathroom doorway, "Did you take a shower in all the bathrooms in this place?"

As he rummaged through his bag for his shower items, he saw Jonathan flush from the corner of his eyes. "Hey… I've got to try and see which one I like better. Besides… I own this place, I get to do whatever I want, wherever I want."

Evan let out a soft, low chuckle. "Sure thing. Just don't go streaking while we're here because of that. Or crawling into someone else's bed over the weekend."

He caught a glimpse of a deepening red. "I – I won't – why would I?" Jonathan barely managed to stammer out. "I like this bed, it's nice and the silk sheets are soft and comfy anyway!"

"I don't know, maybe you'd get a little lonely at night?" Evan joked, before turning slightly serious. "Why're you so uptight anyway? We used to joke about these sort of stuff all the time." _We used to be so close, close enough to talk about just about everything under the sun. Now you're just running hot and cold on me, being so adorable and drawing me in and then pushing me away so hard. Why, Jonathan?_

Evan's words were left unsaid, and he swallowed them back into the depths of his chest. The temptation of the ritual he had always performed before was growing greater – his chest felt like it was filled with hot air, and he was about to burst. He needed to empty his feelings he always had done every morning in the shower before. It was such a tempting choice to take, such an easy way out.

He watched as Jonathan bit the inside of his cheek. "I don't know. I think I'm losing my nerves over having everybody over for the first time."

 _That's not it. That's definitely not it._

"After all," Jonathan continued, the expression of his face warping under the strain of the dishonesty, "It's only been, what, a few months since I first saw all of the guys. And it was only for a few days, too. It's hard not to freak out."

Evan sighed. _You've picked up one of my worst traits, one of my worst habits that I'm trying so hard to throw away_.

"Anyway," Jonathan said, a practiced, false smile plastered onto his face. "Go take your bath before they all come and mess the place up. Go!"

Jonathan pushed Evan into the bathroom and shut the door behind him with a resounding click.

Evan sighed once more. He had seen the look in Jonathan's eyes – a look that spoke an entirely different story than what his face had tried to express. Evan knew the look all too well. _I make that look. I make that look whenever I lied, whenever I had to lie to save myself. Whenever I had to pretend that something wasn't true, or was true, just so someone else would smile_.

Evan undressed himself, preparing himself for a ritual that he was so familiar with. Whilst he had expected a slight weight to be lifted off him as he slid the fabric off his body, he experienced no such relief. Frowning slightly, he brushed the oddness aside and stepped into the shower, his body heavy and weary.

Even as the water came down upon his body, soaking through his hair and dripping down every inch of his skin, the relief did not come, and the emotions that he sought to through away and abandon did not drain away. It was as though he could not do so any longer, no matter how hard he tried to ignore his feelings, no matter how much he tried to make them go away.

What did not help him was how much Jonathan kept cropping up in his thoughts, practically consuming his mind. He could not seem to think of anything else _but_ Jonathan. Everything from the way he looked when he ate – _how adorable_ – and the way he got flustered – _how cute_ – to the way he was quiet and thoughtful, racking his brains over a problem that Evan could probably easily solve. The way he warmed up to Evan and joked with him almost just like always, and the way he grew cold and distant, as though he was trying to avoid Evan right there and then.

And then that damn lying smile of his, full of deception and lies.

 _I don't know what you're trying to hide. I don't know why you're lying. I don't understand any of this anymore. You said you don't hate me, but you haven't been acting quite like you really don't. Do you hate me, Jonathan?_

He could almost hear Jonathan's voice in his head. " _No, I don't, I can't hate you_." The sad puppy-eyed expression he'd carry would solidify the deal and make Evan believe him, until the distance between them both drew once more to painful proportions, and Evan would begin to doubt his words once more.

Evan took a deep breath as he lathered himself up with soap, scrubbing himself, hoping to wash the slate clean. The burgeoning emotions within him flowed more intensely than ever with continued thoughts of the man, and he wondered why the feelings were not fading as they should have. He would usually be much calmer, much emptier by now, but his head was filled with Jonathan.

It was not long before he gave up trying to do something that was becoming clearly impossible. He quickly rinsed off the soapy mixture on his body, hissing as the hot water hit has skin, and quickly got out of the shower, drying himself up. He inhaled deeply and exhaled, preparing to meet Jonathan's eyes once more as he walked back out into the bedroom.

Jonathan was sitting on the bed, legs folded to his chest and silky bedsheets creasing underneath his weight. He had a piece of paper in his hands, the edges crumpling and creasing furiously under his tight grasp. On his face was a look that Evan had never seen before, a mixture between sheer annoyance and despair.

"What's wrong?" Evan asked as he approached his bag once more, digging through a mound of cottony fabric for appropriate clothes.

"He's not coming." Jonathan seethed through clenched teeth. "This was all a set-up."

Evan gaped for a moment. "What are you talking about?"

Jonathan held the note out to him, creases forming in his brow. "Just look at this."

Evan strode across the room to Jonathan and plucked the note out of his fingers, goosebumps raising as the cold air hit his wet skin. His eyes scanned across the page, taking each and every word in Luke's hand –

"Jonathan (or Evan, whichever one of you fucks is reading this right now),

By now I think you guys should have realized that we're taking forever to come. That's because we're not coming. There's no point waiting for us, because there was no plan to have some party in the mountains. The plan isn't even mine alone. All of us planned this together – to have you both together in a place alone without us or anybody else around to disturb you two.

Believe me, none of us wanted to trick you two like that. It's a stupid plan that would've failed from the start if anything went even slightly wrong, but we counted on the problems that you two were having to distract you, and if you're reading this, then I'm pretty sure that worked out.

But yes, you two have problems. Big problems. You guys don't have any idea how you guys looked like at PAX together. That wasn't friendship at all, that was a fucking cat and mouse game. It fucking sucked to watch you guys go at it. One moment you guys are all nice and happy with each other, another moment you guys are fucking acting like two awkward people who just met. And you two have been friends for years. I can't fucking believe this is happening because of some shit that happened between you two on New Year's Eve.

And when we told you guys to talk it out? It never happened. We knew it'd never happen while we're all around you guys at PAX, so when you guys decided to leave the bar on your own, drunk as fuck, we counted on that opportunity for you guys to fix whatever's broken between you two. But it never fucking happened, and you two just came back the next day going about that back and forth shit again. It's fucking tiring. We had to do something, or you two would just be doing that again and again and again until you guys really stop being friends for real.

God, we could try to keep convincing you guys that neither of you hate each other or anything like that you guys still wouldn't believe us. You guys needed to talk, badly. And you guys wouldn't, at least not at PAX. So we decided to make you guys talk. If you guys didn't want to make use of your chances to trash it all out and fix your friendship, then we were going to step in and make you guys do it properly.

So here we are. None of us are going to be here in the mountains with you two. Nobody is going to hear whatever the both of you have to say to each other and nobody is going to care if you two decide to pull punches. Hell, we don't fucking care if you guys beat each other up into pulp. Just fix whatever shit you guys have with each other already. Bring Evan and Jonathan back. We want them back.

Fight it out or whatever. I don't care. Just know that we'll all be waiting for you guys below to come back to us. Whether you guys come back to us hurt or unhurt, just make sure you two come back to us as real friends, true friends or stronger.

Love from all of us.

P.S. Hannah and I have cleaned the place up. The cupboards are filled with clean towels and there should be extra blankets if you guys need them in there too. I've also filled the fridge with groceries and drinks. Hannah says there's a surprise for you guys in the cupboard in the big bedroom, but whatever. Bring down the extra groceries if there's any leftover. I don't want to have more than we need once you guys join us down here.

P.P.S. Don't you guys dare to cop out of this. If we find that you guys are faking some shit when you come back down, we're sending you straight back up and locking you guys in."

Evan stared at the note for a moment, before returning his gaze to Jonathan. "I… Wow."

"I knew there was something wrong. I knew it." Jonathan growled. "God damn it. I fucking hate Luke."

He sighed softly, the pretty features on his face easing. "I'm sorry you had to get dragged into this. You had to fly all the way here just because they wanted to do this stupid shit."

"It… isn't stupid at all." Evan said slowly, his eyes peering deep into the deep blues. "He's right. We need to talk."

Jonathan tore his eyes away from Evan's and looked away at his feet, a disparaging chuckle escaping his lips. "No, we don't. We're perfectly fine. We're friends, right? We've always been."

"Jonathan..." Evan pleaded, almost whining. "Don't do this. Something's changed between us. I feel it and I know you feel it too. So please… we need to talk. Please talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

He could have sunk to his knees right there and then just so he could look at Jonathan and see the look in his eyes. He could have gotten on his knees and begged just so Jonathan would say something to him, to let him know how he felt.

"Please talk to me. You haven't told me how you felt since… since forever. You say you don't hate me… but… it's so hard to believe."

Jonathan stayed silent, staring at his feet and playing with the sheets of the bed. Evan slowly lowered himself to the ground, his knees touching the wooden surface below, and he looked up slowly, fixating his eyes on Jonathan's sad and dreary eyes.

"Jonathan…" He begged softly. "You used to so full of things to talk about. You used to tell me everything. What's funny, what made you laugh. You used to tell me how you felt about things. What happened to us?"

"What if we just…ran out of things to talk about?" Jonathan said in a small voice, his voice straining to come out from his throat.

"We've never ran out of things to talk about. We haven't properly spoken to each other in months – and usually you'd spill the world to me even just after doing your own stuff for only a few days. It just feels like… you're avoiding me now."

A guilty look passed on Jonathan's face as he silently fiddled with the soft fabric of the bedsheets in his hands.

Evan sighed softly. "So it's true, then. You're avoiding me. You don't want to be my friend any longer –"

"It's not that!" Jonathan nearly shouted. "Don't… just let this be, please, Evan. I'm trying to… I'm trying to just be a good friend to you…"

The plea in Jonathan's voice tugged at Evan's heart heavily, each word dripping with misery, pain and desperation. His voice was breaking at every other word, chipping away at every solid ground that Evan could still stand on. He watched as a glimmer formed in Jonathan's eyes, as his eyes got fuller and wetter with each passing moment and each beat of the heart.

"You don't have to _try_ , Jonathan, you know that. Why can't you talk to me…?"

"Do you think I want to do this?!" Jonathan half-yelled, the dam bursting and tears flowing. "Do you think I want this? Please, Evan, please stop. It's been absolute hell for me, it's been complete misery fighting everything I've known. I don't want to do this anymore!"

"Then talk about it and stop acting like a child!" Evan bit back, his voice rising. Everything was breaking apart. He could feel the oncoming flood of tears, his eyes stinging as they fought them. "Talk to me! Tell me what's going on! How do you expect me to know and understand and make you happy if you don't talk to me in the first place?!"

"I don't want you to make me happy!" Jonathan cried. "Just make yourself happy, why can't you do that? I'm trying to make everything normal for you, just so _you'd_ be happy –"

"Why the fuck do you have to make me happy?!"

"Because I fucking love you, god damn it!" Jonathan burst out, unrestrained, his voice cracking. More tears spilled from the tender blue eyes like an uncontrollable waterfall. The moment Jonathan had realized what he said, the moment he heard the words spill out of his own mouth, his eyes widened, and a hand shot to his mouth.

In that moment, the rift between them began to close in. A bridge had formed, and all Evan had to do was to walk across it. Jonathan's outburst had cut the millions of ropes and strings that had restrained them both and had held them both apart for so long, and a soft warmth was spreading across Evan's chest. The knowledge that Jonathan felt exactly the same as Evan did was an intense relief, and Evan could see what he needed to do. The way forward was clear, and his own words were dancing on the tip of his tongue.

"I didn't…" Jonathan blubbered, sobbing harder than ever. "Oh, god… I've ruined it… I've ruined us…We were going to be friends…I've tried so hard…"

Evan slowly stood up, watching Jonathan cry pitifully. His heart ached at the sight of him, and he wanted to reach out to hold the man, to comfort him, to kiss him. There was little holding him back.

He sat down next to Jonathan on the bed, and gingerly took the man into his arms, feeling the hot tears on Jonathan's face meet his shoulder as he did.

"E-Evan…" Jonathan sobbed, his body shuddering with each small breath that he drew. "Don't… I…"

"Sssh…" Evan shushed, running his fingers through the dark mass of hair. "Don't cry anymore. It hurts my heart to see you cry like this. It aches to see your pretty face show that much pain."

"Evan…" Jonathan whispered once more, his voice hoarse and weak. "Don't… do this… You don't… you don't want me…"

Evan pulled Jonathan closer to his body and held him tighter, feeling the softness of the man's skin against his. Jonathan felt like a fragile bag of bones in his arms, threatening to shatter if hit in the right place. "Why wouldn't I want you? You're gorgeous. You see me for who I am, not for who I want to pretend to be. You're so pretty and it hurts not telling you that I love you."

"It… You told me… it'll never be me… so please, Evan... Don't…"

"No, Jonathan… listen. I was such a liar. You know that, so please… whatever I said to you before… it was probably the biggest lie I've ever had to tell you, that I probably ever had to tell myself." Evan wiped at the remnants of his tears. "I wanted so badly to make it real with a stupid lie. But I can't lie anymore, not to myself and definitely not to you. God, Jonathan, it _is you. I've met the prettiest man that I could possibly ever meet and he's changed me. He made me less of a coward. He made me admit something I tried to hide for so long to myself."_

He felt Jonathan shudder quietly in his arms, crying silently as he took in Evan's words.

"So… hear me out, Jonathan. Please." Evan took a deep breath before he released Jonathan slightly, and continued –

"I love you, I really do, and right now, I just want nothing more than to be with you. I want to hold you tight and tell you that everything is okay, until your tears dry and that pained expression on your face is replaced by a smile. I want to look into those pretty blue eyes of yours every day and see the happiness dancing in them, and I want to wake up to see those eyes of yours open sleepily. I want to see your beautiful eyes every single day, even if I go blind. I want to be able to hold you even when I'm old and frail and my arms can't even move anymore. I want to kiss you until I can't breathe, even when I'm weak and my breathing turns shallow. Above all, Jonathan… I just want to love you, from now on, after all these missed opportunities, until the end of our days. Is that too much to ask for…?"

He felt a slight shake of Jonathan's head in his arms, and he released Jonathan, taking in the man's beauty in its entirety. His eyes were bloodshot and his lips were swollen and perfectly red, and his skin was ghastly pale with jagged lines of tears streaked all across it. He hiccoughed slightly, no longer sobbing as intensely as he was moments before.

Evan drew closer, taking in Jonathan's scent. "You're so beautiful, do you know that? So pretty… and to think this idiot, this asshole in denial had to break such a pretty thing… twice. I nearly ruined our friendship twice."

"I…" Jonathan bit his lip, a small tinge of pink appearing on his cheeks. "I fueled it, Evan… I helped you to… nearly break us. I'm so sorry…"

Evan reached out to Jonathan's face, gently caressing his cheeks and thumbing his lips slightly. "It's not your fault."

He closed in on Jonathan, feeling Jonathan's breath on his skin.

"W-wait," Jonathan breathed, flustered. "I need to tell you something first."

"Hmm?" Evan hummed inquisitively as he stilled, their lips just inches away from each other's.

"I…" Jonathan began shyly. "I love you, Evan."

"And I love you too, Jonathan." Evan gave him a small smile, and erased the distance between them.

Their lips met gently, softly. It was a feeling that sent warmth rolling through every part of Evan's body, and it was a feeling that he treasured deeply. Jonathan's lips felt so perfect against his, and his skin was so soft against his. Every single bit of emotion that Evan had held back poured itself out in the kiss. Every waking moment that he had spent thinking of Jonathan, every bit of pain that he had felt for the man was worth more than everything else in the world in that one kiss. The moment was chaste, but it was perfect. He was in love with that man. They were in love with each other.

* * *

 _*gasp* Chapter 15 is finally here? Yes, after nearly 2 weeks, the penultimate chapter for Rule of the Heart is finally here! (Yes, the story is ending... but don't be sad!)_ _It's a little short, but I have a surprise for you guys coming up, so stay tuned! I hope you enjoyed this chapter... as well as the surprise coming up! ;)_

 _-delmin_


	16. Chapter 16 - Restart

_This chapter is NSFW, so be prepared!_

* * *

There was a soft, comfortable warmth that surrounded Jonathan. His eyes were tight shut, and all he could see was darkness and the blackness of the insides of his eyelids. He was still, motionless, unmoving, in a state of perfect comfort, of perfect serenity, and of perfect relaxation. He was not asleep – at least, he thought he wasn't. He was not even sure if he had slept or if he had simply been lying in that state of catatonia. All he knew was that he was surrounded by something warm and comfortable and smooth and soft, and that he was perfectly tranquil and calm.

Every inch of his skin seemed particularly sensitive in that moment. It was the sensations that he felt that made him think that he wasn't asleep at that point in time. Beneath him was a sea of soft, smooth fabric that seemed to slip and slide underneath his touch as he moved very slightly with each breath he took, and another layer of fabric of the same material covered him, draped over his body loosely like a protective cover against the rest of the world. The fabric gave him warmth, sealing in the heat that radiated from his body, but nothing gave him more warmth than the body that lay beside him, with an appendage tucked safely underneath the back of his neck.

Evan's body was incredibly warm. Wherever their skin and their bodies met, Jonathan could feel nothing but heat – not a discomforting, burning sensation, but a glowering, dull heat, like a human-sized hot water bottle against his body. Evan's body was however, unlike the hot water bottle, for it was soft, yet firm. There was a firmness to the muscular frame that was pressed against Jonathan's body, yet the flesh was undeniably soft enough for comfort. Evan was in every sense a huge warm body pillow, moving only very slightly at Jonathan's side as they lay together on the bed in the larger of two bedrooms in the mountain cabin.

The past hours had been a complete blur. Evan had managed to dress himself loosely whilst he wiped at Jonathan's tear-streaked face as his sobs subsided to nothingness, and he seemed to make a conscious effort to touch Jonathan at any point of time. After the first breathless kiss, what felt like a thousand more smaller kisses had been exchanged between the two as Evan lay Jonathan onto the bed, coaxing the exhausted man who had wept his energy away and lulling him into a catatonic state. The words that slipped out of their mouths had sounded so surreal, and the sight of it all, blurred by the flood of tears, had made the memory of the past several hours seem so odd and dreamlike. Jonathan wondered quietly then if it had all been a dream and he was simply lying in bed, surrounded by a multitude of unusually warm pillows whilst Evan slept on in the other room, utterly disgusted and hell bent on maintaining his distance.

Whether it was a dream or not, however, did not bother Jonathan that much. What he knew was that the ache in his chest that had arisen from their little heart to heart talk had faded greatly, and had been overtaken by sweet, secretive warm throbbing in his chest, each pulse sending a soft echo of the precious words that had painfully delighted him through his head – _I love you, I really do…_

The thought of Evan's words made him uncontrollably happy. The initial burning and searing of the pain mixed with pleasure that came from the revelation had dwindled, giving way to sheer pleasure and joy that grew exponentially the more Jonathan thought of it. In the moment, Jonathan could not resist the urge to break into a small smile, and he did so, unaware of what he had just done.

It was then that whatever doubt he had of it all being a dream vanished. He felt a pair of lips against his forehead, the very same lips that had attacked at his neck on the first night at the beach house many months back – soft, tender, and slightly thin. For a brief moment, he considered that the pillows had grown a pair of lips, but quickly dismissed it when he felt another gentle peck on his forehead, this time fuller and more drawn out. He was being kissed, and he was being kissed by someone whose lips he was familiar with. His heart skipped a small beat, before returning to him, beating faster than before.

Gently, he turned body towards the source of the warmth and pushed his head against the puffy softness next to him. Inhaling the intoxicatingly husky scent of Evan's body, he gently nuzzled against it, pushing his face against what felt like a wall of firm musculature. He heard Evan take in a quiet, relaxed breath as he did, and no sooner than that, he felt another arm weigh itself gently against his waist, taking Jonathan into a loose embrace on the bed.

"I love you." Evan whispered softly, his breath gently brushing across Jonathan's skin.

A soft rustling of leaves outside of the cabin followed his words as a breeze blew in through the windows, gently caressing the back of Jonathan's neck. He shivered slightly, and pushed himself closer to Evan's sweet warmth. He felt the arm around his waist tighten then, with Evan lightly pulling his body closer.

"Are you cold?" Evan asked as Jonathan shivered slightly again. "The sun's coming in. It'll be warmer soon."

Jonathan shook his head. _How could I be cold when you're here_?

Evan chuckled almost inaudibly, and Jonathan soon felt a pair of lips against his forehead, pecking gently upwards towards his hairline. There, Evan stilled, and Jonathan heard an almost soundless intake of air. Evan was taking in his scent, every bit of it that emanated from him.

"Evan…" Jonathan croaked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, almost threatening to jump out from beyond the flesh and the bones in his body. "Stop…"

"Why?" Evan laughed into his hair, his chest shaking against Jonathan's face as he did. He gently kissed Jonathan's hair, before he continued, "Shy?"

Jonathan nodded silently, and Evan laughed once more.

"You're adorable when you're shy." He commented, before pulling back, loosening Jonathan from the embrace. He felt the hand on his waist slide up towards his face, and he felt Evan gently caress his cheek. "Your cheeks get all red and puffy when you blush. It's really cute."

Evan's hand was replaced by his soft lips on Jonathan's cheek. He gently kissed Jonathan, and Jonathan could feel the skin on his face burning underneath Evan's touch. They had kissed countless times before, yet with each kiss, his heart still jumped in happiness mixed with embarrassment and excitement. It was like his first kiss all over again – he felt like a schoolgirl, and everything was all fireworks.

Evan's lips traced downwards in a curve from his cheek slowly, and as he neared Jonathan's lips, he paused, pulling himself back, leaving Jonathan aching for more. He wanted Evan to kiss him full on the lips, and he wanted Evan to suck the breath out from his lungs in the act. No sooner had the thought formed in his head, he felt a pair of hands gently cup his cheeks, pulling him gently upwards and tilting his chin at a slight angle. Evan's lips pushed against his eagerly, excitedly, coaxing a gasp from Jonathan as his lips parted, allowing Evan's mouth to invade his. Slowly, as the initial shock subsided, Jonathan began to kiss back, pushing back against Evan's lips with his own. Curiously, he flicked Evan's upper lip with his tongue, parting it slightly.

His curiosity was answered with Evan's reciprocation – and their tongues mingled, dancing about each other's playfully. His tongue tingled with each touch, and he felt the urge to press his lips closer to Evan's, to give himself fully to him. A small part of him wondered if Evan felt the same just as the kiss got more intense and heated, their tongues wrestling each other's and their lips mashing roughly against each other's. _I think he does_.

Evan began to chase his tongue, their bodies coming closer than ever. Jonathan could feel the heat from his skin even better now, and he could smell the delicious scent off Evan. He was losing all rational thought, and he could feel it slipping away from him. His mind was about to go blank from the joy that he was experiencing. – _No, pull back, pull –_

Jonathan quickly pulled away from the kiss with what felt like the last of his strength. His eyes finally shot open, taking the room and the man in front of him in full view. The room was brighter than he thought it'd have been, with an almost-white light filtering in from behind him. The light hit Evan's face, illuminating it in in all its glory and creating a magnificent sparkle in his eyes that made him look all too beautiful for Jonathan to properly comprehend. His eyes carried a look of surprise mixed with desire as he closed up the gap between his reddening lips and licked them slightly, wetting them.

"Sorry," Jonathan breathed, attempting to mute the flames that had alighted in his chest. "It's just… it's just..." He took a deep breath, attempting to steady his heart. "It's going a little too fast…And I think we should take it a little slower… I mean, we've only been together for a few hours now…"

"Yeah, yeah, I agree." Evan quickly replied, his Adam's apple shifting visibly in his throat as he swallowed. His eyes darted back and forth from Jonathan to elsewhere in the room, as though he was trying very hard to think of something else, only to be led straight back to the man before him. After a pause, he spoke again, suggesting –

"We could…simply… just rest together for a bit. Like earlier on." Evan bit his lip slightly, extending an arm in an invitation that Jonathan took. They returned to the positions that they were once in, with one of Evan's arms tucked underneath Jonathan's head and the other gently slung around Jonathan's waist, as Jonathan pressed his face to Evan's chest. He felt his cheeks burn up even more against Evan, and he silently hoped that through the thin fabric that separated them two, Evan could feel no more than a slight warmth against his chest.

He gently titled his head, placing his ear against Evan's chest instead. He could hear the thrumming of Evan's heart against his chest, and he wondered if Evan's heart was beating faster than it should. His heartbeat was rhythmic, like a muffled beat to a song, and Jonathan wished he could pull himself closer to Evan and hear his heartbeat better.

He barely knew how much time had passed, or how long it had been or what time it was when the hand on his waist began to wander. He felt Evan's palm trace gently from his sides and his waist down towards his hips, where it lingered for a moment, before it slid towards the small of his back. Slowly, he felt Evan's hand begin to stroke him there, in a small up-and-down pattern that grew larger and larger the more he stroked.

"Evan…" Jonathan whined softly as he felt the hand get increasingly closer to his bum. "What… what are you doing…?"

"Mmm… Nothing." Evan murmured, his voice deep and low. His palm slide a little further south before continuing its little stroking pattern, making Jonathan shiver slightly from the sensations.

"That doesn't feel like 'nothing'." Jonathan complained. "It definitely doesn't sound like 'nothing', either."

"Well, I think that it _is_ nothing." Evan said with a note of teasing in his voice that Jonathan quickly caught onto. "Why, got a problem with that?"

"N-No…" Jonathan stammered under his breath, his willpower shaking under the barely-there force of Evan's palm. "It just… It makes me… want more… than I should…"

A soft little chuckle rose from the depths of Evan's chest, and his hand traced a little further south, in a larger pattern. "What's wrong with wanting more?"

Jonathan felt Evan gently pull their bodies closer together, their hips touching ever so slightly now. He could feel Evan's breath gently brush across his skin as Evan gently lifted Jonathan's face to the same level as his.

"Too – too close…" Jonathan breathed.

"You're avoiding the question," Evan purred, a playful twinkle forming in his eyes. "What's wrong with wanting more?"

He was crumbling under Evan's teasing. The palm stuck where it was, unbearably close to his bum, alternating between a back and forth motion and a circular motion, stroking so teasingly and so gently that Jonathan could only shudder under Evan's touch. He could already feel an urge stirring away within him, something that he had readily suppressed for the past several months the best he could – a familiar heat that resided within the depths of his stomach and his abdomen as parts of his body were compelled by Evan's actions to wake up.

"Too much," Jonathan finally answered, his voice high and strained from effort. "I mean… you're new to this… I haven't been with someone for some time… and… we haven't even… gotten the chance to do other – _other couple things_ yet."

"Mmmh." Evan hummed, the playfulness still dancing around in his voice. "It's been very couple-y for ages now. We've kissed. We've hugged. And although it wasn't official, we've been on dates."

"We didn't – we didn't go on dates."

"We kind of did." Evan replied, the smirk on his face growing. "Oh, you meant as an official couple, the entire perfect first date thing. Hmm. Let's see…"

He screwed up his face in mock concentration, his palm stilling over a dangerously sensitive area on Jonathan's rump. "Our perfect first date. I'll make you breakfast – sausages and scrambled eggs with a light potato salad on the side. I think you'll like that. And I'll top it all off with a cup of warm, sweet tea. All nice and light. And I'll make it extra pretty and serve it to you in bed because that's what a pretty man like you deserves."

He paused, smirking wider. "And then after we're done, we'll drive down this mountain and look for a carnival to spend our day at. I'll take you on all the crazy rides that go so fast and so high you'll scream your lungs out until, and then I'll hold you tight after each and every one of them so you'll feel nice and safe in my arms. And then we'll go around all the carnival game stores, and we'll play so many of them you'll be laughing your head off. I'll win you all the cute and cuddly teddy bears, so much that you can't even hold them by the time we decide to leave."

Jonathan could see it in his head – the two of them, hand in hand, their fingers intertwined with each other's, running about an amusement park and amusing themselves with the games and displays. He could imagine every soft, fluffy teddy bear Evan would hand to him, grinning, and every soft kiss he would give him as he did. His heart pumped a little faster at the thought, and a tiny smile played at his lips at the idea of it all.

Evan laughed softly, evidently pleased with the reaction that he was getting. He continued –

"We'd have a nice dinner at a restaurant nearby. I'll request for a private area all to ourselves, and I'll make sure you're off to the bathroom for some reason first before I request for a few candles and order a nice three-course meal for us. All secretly, though, so I'll get to see the surprise on your face and watch your eyes light up when you walk through the door again and see the romantic set-up that I did for the both of us. We'll have a romantic dinner together, and maybe I'll play footsies with you under the table."

He held Jonathan a little tighter, his palm inching downwards a little further, before he spoke again. "And then we'll come back up, probably after you've sung your heart out to some song on the radio, and then we'll bring the music with us. I'll bring you into a slow dance, and I'll spin you around until you're dizzy and giddy and giggly as you always are. And when the moon is at its brightest, I'll lay you down on the bed, and kiss you here –"

He thumbed at the corner of Jonathan's lips with a small, content sigh, and continued –

"– and then we'll undress each other, touch every bit of each other's skin…"

Evan paused, mulling over his words dramatically, before he started once more –

"…and it'll be all mature and perfect. That'll be our perfect first date. How does that sound?"

"It sounds… perf- oh!"

Jonathan had barely managed to finish his words just as Evan slid his palm underneath the fabric of his sweatpants and his briefs, the heat of his skin meeting Jonathan's bare ass. With a playful wink, Evan squeezed his rump, extorting a sharp moan from Jonathan as he spoke.

"I'm sorry? I didn't hear your opinion on that." Evan teased, the playfulness in his voice coming out in full force, his voice rough and strained as it always got whenever he was in a particularly lively mood. "Tell me again – how does that sound to you? Does that sound like an amazing idea, or do you have something else on your mind right now?"

Jonathan's mind was swirling. Evan's hands were pressing and squeezing insistently on his ass, and he could barely focus on Evan's words. Evan was like a lion playing with his food just before he ate – and Jonathan was his meal, his prey, his little lamb shuddering pleasurably in his arms. He was the emperor of the night, basking in the glory of his control over Jonathan's body.

"E-Evan… Y-You're so m-mean…" Jonathan whined, words barely forming on his lips as Evan pressed his hips against Jonathan's. It was as though a sea of gasoline had washed over the flames that had lit themselves in Jonathan's loins – and a burning desire seeped through, with his lower body waking up to the possibilities that it had missed for so long. He could feel the layers of fabric between them stretching stiffly to accommodate them both, and Jonathan swore to himself that he could feel a growing bulge between them that was not just his. It began to dawn hazily on him that Evan wanted him as much as he did – and all that desire and yearning was suppressed by a tremendous uncertainty masked by his playfulness. He needed a little push, and it had to come from Jonathan.

"Really?" Evan pushed against him gently, their groins grinding roughly against each other. "If you feel that way, we could simply just go for that perfect little first date now –"

"Shut the fuck up about perfection and fuck me already!"

The growl escaped Jonathan's lips before he could fully comprehend what he had said and that he had said it out loud. Just as he growled his demands out loud, he launched at Evan, crawling to his feet above him and mounting the man hungrily. He looked down at Evan, chest heaving, and peered into the man's lust-filled eyes. He could feel Evan's crotch straining underneath his almost painfully to meet his, and in a moment of devilish defiance, he pushed his weight down against Evan's legs, the two packages meeting. Within the man's eyes, Jonathan could see Evan unhinging, letting go of all restraints and all that held him back from his desires. With a renewed vigor and a surprising amount of strength, Evan shifted his hips against Jonathan's teasingly, lifting them both slightly off the bed before settling them back down.

"I thought you wanted to wait?" He teased, the playfulness genuine and full of heated sensuality now. "Didn't you want to wait for me to get used to this?"

Jonathan leaned down and aimed at Evan's mouth with a feral growl, taking him into a hot wet kiss, their tongues mashing wildly against each other's with a passionate, furious need. The desire coursed through Jonathan's veins like fire in his blood, and he wanted nothing more than to have Evan take him there and then.

"I guess that's a no," Evan laughed softly when Jonathan finally released his lips from the kiss. His gaze became gradually less playful as they peered into each other's sockets, their tip of their noses brushing each other's ever so slightly. "I want to feel you, Jonathan. As badly as you want to feel me. Fuck that perfect first date, Jonathan. I want to feel you."

He rocked his hips against Jonathan's gently as though to emphasize his words. Jonathan let out a gasp as he felt the firmness in their pants meet – Evan meant it, every single word of it.

Grinning wildly, Jonathan slid down, allowing his fingers to trace across Evan's torso and the fabric that covered it, feeling the detail of the man's muscles underneath it. He continued snaking downwards, all the way until he was kneeling with Evan's knees between his legs, and his face was right by Evan's crotch. Gingerly, he found and tugged at the hemline of Evan's pants, and slowly began to unfurl layer of fabric at once downwards and away from his body. As he dragged Evan's pants to his ankles, he allowed his eyes to wander and feast on the wonderful sight that Evan bared before him.

"You're hot," Jonathan commented, his voice only coming out in a quick, raspy whisper as his eyes lingered on the twitching bulge before him. "So fucking hot."

"You like…?" Evan asked, his voice equally gruff, and he made a slight wriggling motion, kicking away the bit of clothing at his ankles and propping his body up slightly to look at Jonathan.

"Yeah," Jonathan breathed. "I'll like it better when it's all off, though."

Beneath the cotton briefs, there was a pronounced thickening of the shaft – Evan liked the thought of his goods being admired. Jonathan smiled and placed a palm on the lump in his briefs, pawing away at it impishly, tracing slowly from the very tip to the base.

"Oh, god, you-…" Evan cried out, before he gave up and settled into a small delicious moan. Pleased, Jonathan rubbed a little harder at the swelling organ through Evan's briefs. "You like that?"

Evan nodded, unable to even form a coherent sentence as he squirmed in pleasure. Jonathan watched as he clasped at the silk bedsheets roughly, attempting to control himself and grab ahold of his thoughts.

Deviously, he decided to temporarily end his torture of Evan, and undress the man down to his bare minimum. As he removed his hands from Evan's body, Evan settled back in bed with a helpless whine.

"Sit up," Jonathan commanded, pulling Evan upright into a sitting position before he instructed again – "arms up."

Reluctantly, Evan lifted his arms and surrendered himself to Jonathan, allowing Jonathan to pull the tight shirt that covered his torso over his head and off his taut body. His tanned skin glowed even in the little bit of light that filtered in through the window, and mesmerized by the sight, Jonathan demanded silently to see more. He pushed Evan back down onto the bed, his fingers playing at the hemline of his briefs once more. This time, without a single pause to hesitate or to tease, he pulled the fabric off, watching as his length sprang forth, straining with effort as it stood at attention.

"You're so fucking hot," Jonathan repeated once more, making sure to lick his lips in the most pronounced fashion as he could just to watch the desire rage on in Evan's eyes. He soon bent down towards Evan's twitching member, and as Evan propped himself up once more, he stole a quick, sensual glance with at Evan, before he took Evan into his mouth, feeling every inch of Evan's thick manhood.

"Oh – god – Jonathan…" Evan cried out helplessly. Jonathan slowly lifted his head from the base of Evan's member to the very tip, where he released Evan with a devilish grin and a loud, wet 'pop'.

"What's up?" He asked, the soft buzzing in his ears and the sensual haze beginning to cloud his mind. A small part of his mind wondered how long he still could go on before he would start blabbering and begging Evan to screw him senseless – as if he wasn't already beginning to go senseless from all the endless teasing.

"Don't stop," Evan whispered, his voice thick with desire. Jonathan obliged, kissing the very tip before taking Evan back into his mouth, eliciting a pleasured groan from the man. Running his tongue across the tautest part of his member, Jonathan pulled his head back up, before sliding his tongue up against the tip, flicking away gently at the leaking slit. With a sudden movement, he slid Evan back into his mouth all the way, taking his full length in, until he felt a familiar discomfort in the back of his mouth.

Jonathan took a moment to reign himself in as the feeling hit – and another before he regained the long-lost ability to resist the gagging feeling. Once he had begun doing so, all else was familiar, like something he had practiced for long before, and he began to take Evan a little deeper into his mouth and his throat, pulling out with every stroke to reveal a thick wet rod of glistening pink and red, straining with need. Eventually, he began to tighten his lips around the knob at every pull back, lifting his head just enough to see Evan go absolutely insane, before he thrust Evan deep back within him.

He was barely thinking now, with his mind caught up in the fog and haze of sensuality. He was ruled by practiced instinct, and all he wanted to do was to make the man before him a shaking, groaning mess. A few of senses were heightened immensely – his ears seemingly fishing out Evan's joyful little moans amongst all the other sounds around him, his skin increasingly sensitive to the slightest of touches and sensations, and his nose was particularly keen on the scent of Evan. His sight, however, was growing slightly blurry – and he knew it wasn't about to get any better as long as the both of them still desired each other in the moment.

At some point, he felt Evan's fingers thread through his hair, running through the mass as if it provided some relief from the torture. His moans were loud and eager, echoing throughout the room around them, growing hoarse and gravelly as he threw his head back in immense pleasure.

Jonathan pulled his head upwards once more, his tongue trailing along Evan's shaft roughly before he released Evan from the tight grasp of his lips. "How d'you like that?"

Evan did not speak, with only soft pants escaping his lips as he propped himself up once more into a sitting position, his legs dragging upwards and away from Jonathan. Abruptly, he dove at Jonathan, their lips meeting fervently in a dance of their passion.

A very small part of Jonathan's conscious mind directed its attention to a fumbling at his waist – Evan was struggling to undo the knotted up drawstring of his sweatpants with shaking hands. Within a moment, the struggle ended, and cool air hit Jonathan's legs harshly as a breeze drew in, and goosebumps began to form all over his skin. He shivered underneath Evan's body, both in the slight cold and in excitement.

He was barely aware of it when Evan removed the rest of his clothes and left him bare and quivering on the bed. All he knew was that when Evan stared down on his nakedness, his eyes full of appreciation and yearning and love, the chill of the wind that blew into the room no longer affected him, and the room seemed to have set itself on fire, becoming almost a thousand degrees hotter. His body knew it was being looked at, and it knew it was being adored. He gasped excitedly as the muscles in his nether region contracted sharply.

"You're really pretty too," Evan breathed. "You're the prettiest thing in this room."

Evan bent down, almost in wonder as he examined Jonathan's lower body. It was almost as though he had never seen a man's organ before – there was an almost innocent curiosity to the way he traced with his fingers up the little vein that crawled up from the base of Jonathan's shaft to the tip of his knob. His eyes glimmered inquisitively, and as though he was testing the waters, he took Jonathan into his mouth, the hot wet insides of his mouth enveloping the taut, sensitive head of Jonathan's manhood. Evan pushed forth, taking Jonathan deeper and deeper into his mouth, inch by inch, until he promptly gagged and released Jonathan, coughing and sputtering momentarily.

"Are you okay?" Jonathan shot up, reaching for Evan's head in concern. "You don't have to do this if you can't –"

"No, I'm okay, I'm fine," Evan coughed out, interrupting Jonathan sharply. "I'll do this. I went a little too fast and choked, that's all."

"Evan…"

"I know how much I can take, Jonathan. Please let me do this. I've been dreaming about this forever." Evan pleaded, his gaze sincere. As if Jonathan's resolve wasn't shaky enough, he added seductively – "Dreaming about sucking you off slowly and driving you absolutely insane. Absolutely delirious."

He licked his lips slowly, sealing the deal in Jonathan's mind as he collapsed back onto the soft bedsheets and allowed Evan to take him once more, this time slower than ever. Evan seemed determined to keep to his word and drive Jonathan absolutely crazy, as his tongue trailed up Jonathan's length at such an excruciating speed that Jonathan felt compelled to grab Evan's head and push him downwards, harder and faster. The only thing that held him back was the paralyzing pleasure that was shooting through his body as Evan's rigid little mouth tightened around the most sensitive areas of his member. Defeated, Jonathan was reduced to grabbing at the bedsheets between his fingers and throwing his head back into the softness of the bed, moaning treacherously.

"I think I'm getting the hang of it," Evan murmured as he kissed at the tip, causing Jonathan to groan painfully at the teasing. "It's so weird…but so right…doing it with the man I love…"

The tenderness and the seductiveness that Evan was saying it all with made Jonathan's chest swell. His member twitched once more in need, straining for more attention, and Evan gladly took care of it, swiveling his tongue around the reddening nub – at first slowly, then gradually faster and faster, making sure to linger over his now glistening slit every now and then just as beads of clear, thick fluids began to bubble to the surface.

Jonathan could feel the pressure building within him. His head was swimming, and he was barely even thinking straight – but the moment he felt the shaky pressure on his groin, he knew he had to stop Evan from going any further.

"E-van… Evan, stop," Jonathan whimpered, his voice coming out hoarse from the depths of his dry throat. "I don't wanna… Not yet…"

Evan lifted his head once more, his lips wet with saliva and Jonathan's juices. "Why? Wasn't it good?"

"It's too much," Jonathan cried. "I'm going to… it's going to end before everything's started."

"Why?" Evan repeated, the answer evident to him as a finger wandered downwards to Jonathan's small pucker. "Thinking of something else?"

 _God, yes. Just take me, Evan, just take me now. Fuck me hard until I go senseless. Just do me. Put yourself in me and do me. Please…_

For a moment, Jonathan thought those words stayed in the privacy of his whirling head. It was only when a triumphant smirk plastered itself on Evan's face that he realized that he had said the words out loud. He had begged Evan to fuck him _out loud_.

"Can't wait, eh? Didn't you want to take it slow?"

Jonathan swallowed hard. "I – I… please, Evan…make me yours. Screw taking it slow, _just make me yours_."

The effect of his words on Evan was instantaneous. Evan threw himself downwards and their lips mashed together hard in a celebration of their furious passion. Their hips ground together, and Evan's hands wandered all over Jonathan's body, twisting at the taut pink nubs on his chest, stroking away at his lower back and at his posterior, squeezing the sides of his thighs gently as he drew Jonathan closer to him, as much as their bodies would allow them. It seemed to Jonathan that it was the beginning of Evan's way of making Jonathan his, of taking every bit of Jonathan in.

After a few long moments, Jonathan found himself in an odd position. His legs were spread, and Evan was perched at the entrance, pushing slightly and dangerously, raring to go. The teasing to his pucker sent Jonathan shivering pleasurably, his hole twitching and ready for Evan. Evan, however, frowned as he looked about the room.

"Do me," Jonathan whispered, his tongue thick, dry and heavy. "Put it in."

"Not yet, sweetheart. I know you can't wait, and I can't wait either." Evan replied as he removed himself from Jonathan to rummage through an end table by the bedside. "Luke's got to have thought of this… A-ha!"

Evan extracted a purple bottle and a small red box that Jonathan remembered from some very distant memory with Nick. It took him a few seconds to fully recollect and comprehend what they were and why they needed them, although Jonathan strongly doubted that the necessity of the purple lube bottle.

"Safety first." Evan grinned a perfect grin as he tore into the little red box, and settled back by Jonathan's body. "Luke thought of just about everything, huh?"

Jonathan pouted. "You make me - the sexless pervert - sound like I'm infected with some disease you don't want to catch."

"It's not that I don't trust you." Evan replied as he detached a small red plastic packet from a chain. "I don't trust myself."

Jonathan frowned. "You haven't gotten together with anyone after Sarah."

"Not _that_ \- I'm very sure I haven't caught anything. I'm just not sure I won't hurt you, Jonathan." Evan cooed softly. "I want this to be great for the both of us. I don't know how long you've been out of action, but I don't want to risk this hurting for you one bit. I don't want to lose you even before we've begun. You're too precious for that."

Evan's voice were like magic, bending Jonathan's willpower into sweet submission. The words he spoke completely broke down all of Jonathan's restraint and hesitations, and Jonathans simply lay back and pulled his knees up to his chest, giving Evan full access to his ass.

"Sheesh, you're easy." Evan chuckled, then became thoughtful once more. He looked uncertainly at the bottle of lube in his hands and began, "Uh… how do I go about this?"

"Gimme that." Jonathan instructed patiently, and Evan handed him the purple bottle. With a flip of the cap, Jonathan squirted a sizeable amount of clear liquid onto his palm and spread the lubricant across his hand. Evan quickly followed suit, his hands soon gleaming with grease.

Jonathan circled his pucker steadily, leaving the entrance wet and shiny. Slowly, he inserted a finger, pushing deep within himself, his pleasure pronounced by a shaky moan.

"Come on," he breathed. "You've probably done this before with someone else."

Evan gave him a sheepish look. "Except I was drunk the whole time and I didn't know what the hell I was doing."

"Just…put it in…" Jonathan whispered, shuddering as he hit a spot deep within himself. "…Warm it and put it in…"

Evan did as he was told, all the while dumbfounded by Jonathan's writhing form before him. As his fingers joined Jonathan's inside, Jonathan groaned, his member twitching in recognition of the oncoming treat his body was about to get.

"God…it's so good…" Jonathan mewled. "Ev-Evan… more…please… _more_ …"

Evan obliged, thrusting another digit into the mix, and Jonathan let out a satisfied little groan, nodding slightly in approval. He could feel the three fingers gyrating within him, greasing up his insides as a desire grew within him for more. He needed something bigger, something better. His hips were buckling under the sheer desire and the intense pleasure, and brusquely, with a whine, he withdrew their fingers from within him, and began to focus his efforts on Evan.

"Mm... Is that what you want?" Evan purred seductively as Jonathan began to stroke his length slowly, leaving a wet trail behind. "Are you ready, baby?"

"It's what I've always wanted, Evan," Jonathan whispered. "Please…"

Evan beamed, encouraged by Jonathan's words. Gingerly, he unwrapped the red plastic package, revealing the rubbery material underneath. Almost masterfully, he pulled the rubber over his manhood and positioned himself at Jonathan's quivering entrance once more. He hesitated for a moment, before gently guiding himself into Jonathan.

The next few minutes felt much longer than it actually was. As Evan's hardness began to fill Jonathan's insides, he let out a loud, thrilled groan. The excitement that boiled within him was beginning to spill over as he vaguely felt his ass pulse slightly at the heavenly sensations he was experiencing for the first time after so long. As Evan pushed in further and further, he felt his opening stretching and expanding, making space for the man he loved so much, the man he wanted to feel, the only man he would allow within him. With a final push that coaxed a pressed moan from Jonathan's throat, Evan slid his full length within Jonathan, completing him and blinding him as he saw what seemed like the stars and the moon in his head.

"Fuck," Evan grunted. "You're so fucking tight. I don't think I can last as long as I'd like, because your ass is just that fucking great."

"Shut up and fuck me," Jonathan growled, his ears buzzing. Arching his back, he tried to push against Evan, to get him deeper within him, an action that was answered by a rough pullback and a thrust from Evan.

"Oh, fuck," Jonathan gasped as Evan thrust deep within him once more. "Fuck."

Jonathan was steadily losing control of himself. Thrust after thrust, again and again, the only thing that he knew was that Evan was making love to him, that Evan was fucking him silly. His moans grew louder and louder, his mouth frozen in a perfect 'O' as he cried out his pleasure, and his throat was dry from the constant panting and screams of joy. His tongue hung limply in his mouth, parched dry, only moistened by Evan's mouth every once in a while whenever Evan bent down to kiss him deep and hard.

"So lewd," Evan commented in between another kiss, their noses touching, wet with sweat. "So fucking cute, too."

No sound could come out of Jonathan's mouth, and he simply ran his legs up Evan's shoulders woozily, wringing them around his neck with the last of his conscious energy. He was growing and closer to the edge, and he needed to break the barrier. He was trapped outside the gates of heaven and needed a way in. Evan took the hint quickly, and straightened up, a perfect, sensual smirk growing on his face.

The change in position made the first thrust almost unbearable for Jonathan. He felt the hardness of Evan's length charge straight over his sweet spot, his tender area – and he cried out louder than ever as Evan plunged deeper and deeper within him. Whatever part of his mind that still remained conscious became aware that he was not going to last much longer, that he would, at any point, lose himself to the devilish lust and be consumed by the dark abyss that Evan had created for him.

It was not long before Evan's thrusts became panicky and rushed, almost as though a race had begun. He was panting roughly, grunting with each forceful thrust, ramming himself as deep as he could within his lover.

"Jonathan…" He gasped out loud between pants. "You're… so…fucking…sexy…"

His cheeks were flushed a bright crimson red from the heat and the physical exertion. The dark brown in his eyes were now no longer warm, but rough and harsh and ferocious. The emperor of the night within Evan had taken over, and he had a sole purpose – to make Jonathan his.

Perhaps it was that look that Evan gave him that began to send Jonathan straight over the edge, for when Evan gazed deep into his blue eyes, his intent clear, Jonathan's mind disconnected itself from his body, and he was but a writhing, moaning mess underneath Evan's body. Droplets of clear, thick fluid dribbled from the slit of his member and dripped onto his abdomen as it twitched ever so frequently. His ass was pulsing furiously with each heated thrust over his sensitive spot, and Jonathan could feel the world closing in around him. He was close – very, very close.

"I'm so…fucking close, Jonathan…Can you… feel that?" Evan growled. "Can you feel… how hard I am inside you? …How hard I'm… fucking you?"

Jonathan groaned in response, barely comprehending Evan's words. With weak, shaking hands, he reached out towards his own length, attempting to stimulate it. His attempts were fruitless – his hands were shaking too much, and he was too weak all over to properly move his wrist.

Evan lifted Jonathan's legs over his head, higher than before, and began pushing incredibly deep within. "I…Jonathan… Jonathan!"

A rough, final thrust did the job for the both of them. With a cry, countless strings of hot, thick white fluids began to spill from Jonathan's convulsing member, his abdomen tightening and contracting as each wave of joy and pleasure rolled over his body, exploding within him like fireworks on New Year's Day. His insides were quivering spasmodically, tightening themselves around Evan, eliciting a shout from the man as he shot his seed into a condom within his lover.

Spent, the two men collapsed onto each other, their bodies melding together with a once-unknown familiarity. Evan quickly pulled the rubber off himself, lazily tying it up and chucking it aside for a later disposal. They spent the following moments listening to each other as their breathing slowed down and became quieter, as their heartbeats slowed to a loving, romantic rhythm that danced together in their own song. With tender kisses, they spoke their love for each other as they basked in the glow of the aftermath of their lovemaking.

"I loved that, every moment of it." Jonathan breathed softly, his eyes slowly opening and his vision finally clearing up. "And I love the man that did that to me, too."

"I love you too," Evan answered. He looked perfectly worn out by the physical ordeal the both of them had went through, and his lips were slightly parted lazily, as though he barely even had the strength to close them. "I love you so much I want to do that to you for the rest of our lives. Even when we're old and can't move anymore."

A soft laugh emerged from the depths of Jonathan's chest as he kissed the man he loved so much. It wasn't until he became aware of the cold slippery feeling on his abdomen that he jumped, struggling to get out of the little cradle that Evan's arms had formed around him.

"Oh, shit." He groaned as he wriggled away from Evan.

"What?" Evan's eyes shot open, the weariness visible in the darkness of his brown eyes. "Are you hurt? Does it hurt?"

"No – no, why would it? It's just that… I think we might've ruined these sheets." Jonathan groused, a tinge of sadness in his voice. "And they were nice and soft, too. I really liked them."

Jonathan traced his fingers over the dark splotches that had formed on the silky sheets where his body once lay, and then looked down at his own body. "We made such a mess, too."

Evan drew him closer and took him into another kiss. "We can always take it down with us and send it for a wash. Right now, I just want to hold you."

And hold him he did. Evan held him tighter than ever, his thick arms lazily yet firmly slung around Jonathan's body, as if he was afraid that Jonathan would slip away at any moment. For a few moments, Jonathan thought that he had fallen asleep, but Evan would shift ever so slightly once in a while, and his eyes would flutter open once in a while, and upon seeing Jonathan's presence, shut themselves off into a relaxed state.

Evan spoke after a long moment, the energy coming back into his voice. "That was so good I thought I'd died. And when I didn't, I thought I'd drop dead soon after that."

"Don't say that." Jonathan chided, not liking the idea one bit. "You're alive and kicking and I love you, so don't _ever_ say that."

"It's so fucking good, though." Evan whined, his eyes finally fluttering open once more, rejuvenated. " _You're_ so fucking good. I think you sent me to heaven, and then they didn't want me there because you're here waiting for me."

"Shut up." Jonathan grinned, his heart bursting with warmth. "We need to get cleaned up, you wonderful slob."

"Al-right," Evan drawled, getting up languidly, fingers wringing around Jonathan's as he half-dragged the man into the bathroom with him.

"I've never really done this before," Jonathan sighed as he leaned back into Evan's lean body in a tub of hot soapy water moments later. "Not even with…"

"With… what's his name, Nick?" Evan finished for him. "That guy sure has a lot on you. I'm envious."

"Yeah… used to. Not so much now. It's been ages, and I can't imagine life today with him. He took a lot of my firsts, but I think you're going to give me a whole new set of them. Like this, for example."

Evan gently kissed at his neck where the ink began on his skin. "Well, he did a good job with you. That's one sexy ass tattoo."

Jonathan smiled to himself. "He liked it. I like it, too, I'm not gonna lie. But it makes me the happiest to know that _you_ like it."

"I do." Evan commented as he traced a finger down where the tattoo ran on his back and his arm. Slowly, his hand dipped into the water, still tracing, and stilled suddenly near Jonathan's lower back, as though he remembered something. Jonathan sighed, the relief and humor taken out of it this time.

"Evan, listen…" He turned back to face the man's worried face. "I'm fine. It's all over now, and I'm fine."

A doubtful glint passed Evan's eye as he palmed the small of Jonathan's back where the little scars lay. "I still don't know about… about that. You didn't want to tell me, but I need to know, Jonathan."

Jonathan sighed once again and leaned back into Evan's arms. "Nick had a brother. His name's Eric. The very same guy that was… responsible for what happened on Christmas. Eric didn't like the idea of me around Nick. Simply put… those were his warnings. It's what got him into jail the first time."

He could almost see Evan clenching his jaw tight. "The sick fuck burned you with cigarettes just to warn you."

"To be fair, he wasn't in good company. Or a good state of mind." Jonathan reasoned, not quite understanding why he was being reasonable about Eric or defending him in the first place. "Aside from Nick and a couple of other kids, the rest of the football team looked like they might've gotten hit up by some gang."

"That's still not alright." Evan seethed. "That's just fucking _sick_. I used to know this kid Timmy back then. His brother was the captain of the hockey team. He started showing up with bruises and burns like yours, and always made sure it was covered by a jacket or something. He thought I wouldn't find out, except I was pretty much his go-to buddy even in the showers after practice."

A thoughtful sigh escaped his lips as he recalled the events from his past. "I made him tell me what was going on. His dad was going fucking psycho from his drug addiction. Did favors for the local gang for whatever he could get his hands on. Practically was one of them. Took it out on Timmy whenever he went into withdrawal, whenever Timmy messed up and pissed him off big time. It's the first I've seen of fresh cigarette burns. I ended up telling Sam – that's the team captain – about it. Weeks later they took off and left school and home. I never heard from them ever since."

"It's why I freaked when I saw those scars on you," he continued. "I thought you were in a gang, or you pissed off someone from a gang. I wasn't too far off, was I?"

Jonathan shook his head. "It doesn't matter now. Back then, losing Nick hurt like hell, more than the burns did. And I couldn't even respond to being called 'Johnny' for so long, too. Eric used to call me that. Now… all of it, it's all history. They're just scars on my back, in my past."

The two of them fell silent for a bit, listening as droplets of water dripped from the faucet into the tub of water.

"So… about that Timmy…" Jonathan started, pouting slightly.

"Like I said, I never heard from him since." Evan replied. "Why, jealous?"

Jonathan pouted silently at the water in front of him. "You liked him. You sound like you still do."

Evan chuckled and pulled Jonathan in for a gentle kiss. "He gave me a head start on guys, I'll admit that. But I'm sure you'll give me the rest. It's been so long. I don't know how he's like anymore, and I don't know what he's become. Like you said, it's all history. He's just a part of my past that's made an impact on me."

Jonathan pouted silently, prompting Evan to gently caress his cheek with another soft chuckle. "Aw, come on," he cooed. "You're prettier than he is. You know me better, and you love me for who I am. And you have the prettiest, brightest, most amazing, most exciting crazy blue eyes I have ever seen and I don't think I can ever get enough of."

A small coy smile appeared on the sides of Jonathan's mouth as they fell into silence again, gently scrubbing each other down with the soapy suds floating atop the water. Evan's fingers threaded into Jonathan's hair once more, scrubbing gently away at his scalp as Jonathan lay back comfortably into his chest again.

"You really like pampering me, huh?" Jonathan whispered, his eyes shut in relaxation.

"Mm-hm. But I really like your hair in general. It's so soft… and washing it that time was so nice."

"Maybe you'll get to wash it for me more from now on."

"I _am_ going to wash it more for you, any chance I get." Evan teased. "Just make sure your hair doesn't fall out before I'm done with you."

"I think I'll shrivel up and freeze before you do," Jonathan replied distractedly as he examined his wrinkled fingertips. "The water's getting cold and I'm getting all pruny."

Evan sighed as he got up to unplug sink in the tub, turning on the shower head above as he did. "All good things must come to an end, I guess," he murmured as he invited Jonathan underneath the rainfall of water droplets to rinse himself off. "At least it leads to another good thing."

Jonathan raised an eyebrow after a pause as they stepped out from underneath the flow of water, now clean, but wet. "Go on?"

"Not telling you until we're dry." Evan teased. "And not until we've eaten that meatloaf that you were gushing over yesterday."

Jonathan stared at him incredulously, and Evan decided to change the subject. "Are there any towels we could use? I forgot to bring mine in."

"In the cabinet by the door." Jonathan pointed. "I've just… kind of never used them because they're too nice to use."

"I see why," Evan commented as he flung the cabinet doors open, reaching inwards to touch some unknown material. "They're really soft, way better than the ones you get at hotels. Who stocked all these things?"

Jonathan shrugged, clambering out of the bathtub to join Evan by the cabinets as he stroked the surface of the soft white towels. "Probably my mom and dad. Or Hannah. They're the only crazy romantics I know."

Evan snorted, wrapping a towel around Jonathan's body and gently drying it. "I see where you came from, then."

"You make it sound like it's in my blood, but Jenn's not even that way. She's the exact opposite, if you can remember." Jonathan mumbled as Evan rubbed him down with the soft towel. The sensations were absolutely heavenly that he could have simply laid down right there and then and slept there with nothing but the towel around him.

"Uhm… Jonathan?" Evan called out. "Check this out."

Jonathan peeked past Evan's shoulder, the towel still wrapped messily around his body. In a corner of the cabinet lay two sets of black silk pajamas, with a note attached to it. Whoever it is that wrote the note had cheekily written – "Enjoy!" with a small little face drawn on at the end of the note, winking back at them. The handwriting was not the messy scrawl of Luke's that Jonathan had gotten to see all the time, but a neater, more controlled hand – one that he had seen elsewhere before…

"I think I've seen that handwriting somewhere..." Jonathan began, frowning. He spent a moment parsing through his memory, attempting to remember where he had seen it and who it was from.

"I _think_ I know who did this," Evan commented as he retrieved the pajamas from the cabinet. "Two people came up here before us, and Luke was one of them. The other one is one of the biggest romantics you know. I wouldn't be surprised if she was also the one who put the stuff in the drawer by the bed."

"Oh." Jonathan managed, just as the memory tumbling back sloppily to him. The neat handwriting had been on a note on a food carton several months back directing him to a sweater made by Hannah. _Yeah, sounds like her to do this for us_.

"Put it on," Evan urged as he pushed a set at Jonathan.

"We're not going to bed, we're only starting our day," Jonathan complained in response.

"I never said we were. We've got a meatloaf to eat." Evan smiled as he slipped on the pajamas. The dark fabric wrapped around his body tightly, showing off an impressive set of muscles. "After that, though..."

"What?" Jonathan asked impatiently, dressing himself up reluctantly with the pajamas as well.

"Maybe another birthday gift involving us, the bed and our matching pajamas, and maybe we should get a head start on trying out new positions, maybe try out swapping a little as well, I don't know." Evan purred softly as he licked his lips. Jonathan's heart might've stilled in the moment that Evan took him in his arms and whispered softly –

"I know you hate it, but… Happy Birthday, my love."

It would be the best birthday Jonathan ever had, a celebration that transcended his dislike for the occasion.

* * *

Miles away, in a house far below the mountains, a room sat full and still. The inhabitants stared lazily at their phones or their laptops, their stomachs full and the gears in their heads cranking slowly as the post-meal food coma began to set in. The general darkness all around outside the house that encapsulated them made them even sleepier, and the energy levels in the room were at an all-time low. Even the bearded man, the owner of the place, who was usually full of energy and vitality, was slumped over on the couch, barely moving and his breathing slow.

A sharp snap from Tyler as he shut his laptop together sent all heads shooting in his direction. Unapologetically, he stretched out indolently and groaned out loud –

"Damn, it's been forever. We've been here forever and checked all of his place and Luke's place out and they still haven't showed up. Maybe they'll never show up and we should just go home. I'm bored to death."

"Patience, Tyler," Craig advised. "Besides, it's Jonathan's birthday. We're here because we wanted to celebrate it together. I don't think they'll disappoint us by not showing up. Jonathan's bound to want to have Luke celebrate it with him, they'll come looking for us soon."

"But it's been forever," Tyler whined. "Usually they get their shit sorted faster than that."

" _Not_ forever." Brock corrected. "It's only been two days. Besides, this is a special case. They need some time, and even after sorting things out, I'm sure they'd want some time to themselves before they come to us. Either way, I have faith they'll turn up soon."

A sharp screech of car tires outside sent the room into an excited flurry, and Luke stood up and strode the windows, pulling back the blinds slightly to peek outside.

"Speak of the devil," he muttered excitedly, smiling triumphantly with his baby tooth showing devilishly as he half-flew to the door, throwing it open to receive Jonathan and Evan.

The two men stood oddly close together, their bodies positioned perfectly beside each other's in an unusually stiff fashion, as if they were hiding something behind their backs.

"Hey, Luke," Jonathan greeted cheerily as the two men pushed past him through the doorway. "And everybody's here, hey!"

A suspicious flash of skin from behind their backs caught Luke's eye, and he spun around sharply to confirm what he saw. With a sudden, incomprehensible yell – "You motherfuckers!"- He bolted at them both, causing the two men to part each other's side.

As their bodies moved apart, the room was graced with the sight that they needed to see for the longest time. The two men had their hands twisted into teach others', fingers intertwined warmly and firmly in a romantic fashion. They were together, not just as friends, but much, much more. They were _together_.

The once-lifeless room burst into energetic cheers as each person in the room broke the happy little couple apart to hug them separately, then together all at once. Congratulatory remarks were repeated all throughout the room, complete with strained yells from Jonathan as a gushing Craig and Marcel threatened to break him under their tight bear hugs.

"It all worked out in the end," Brock commented as he slung an arm around Evan's shoulder almost uncomfortably as their muscles strained to make space for each other. "I'm so happy for you, dude."

"I don't think 'happy' even cuts it for me, man." Evan breathed. "It's so unreal, I'm waiting for the moment I wake up to find out that I was either dreaming or that I'm long dead."

"Hey, don't say that. This _is_ real. Just look at how happy _he_ is and tell me that you're dreaming again." Brock nodded in Jonathan's direction. The man was laughing his usual laugh, goofy and clown-like, his eyes squinting into small little cartoonish lines on his face. It was very real for Evan, and it was something almost familiar.

"He's beautiful." Evan murmured, barely realizing the words slipped out from his mouth.

Brock chuckled, the amusement evident in his eyes. "Come on, it's time to cut his birthday cake. Leave your daydreaming for later on when you're alone with him."

Halfway into the cake-eating session, Luke pulled Evan aside into a small room and shut the door behind them both. The usually jovial look in his eyes had gone and darkened into genuine graveness, and it seemed as though Luke meant business. He carried a scowl on his face, as though somebody had slapped him in the face hard.

"So… you're, uh…datin' my little brother now." Luke began, and frowned for a moment as he caught sight of a few telling dark red marks on the side of Evans' neck, before adding – " _And bangin' him_. Uh, okay. Tryin' not to picture that."

"Hey… we kinda couldn't wait any longer," Evan replied sheepishly, shrugging. A red-hot heat was creeping into his face, and he consciously adjusted his collar to hide the marks.

"Yeah, that's not my point. My point is, if you're going to be with him, you're gonna have to stick with him for the long run. I know it sounds fuckin' weird what with his history of on-and-offs, but he wants – and needs – something solid to stand on, y'know what I'm sayin'? You don't just make him love you and then leave, that's what everyone else before you did wrong, and that's what broke him so hard before."

"I think I get what you're saying." Evan sighed, recalling the events of the past several months. "Even before… we weren't even together, but he turned into a completely different person."

"So… I need your word on this, Evan. Could you do this for me? Don't break his heart. Don't ever let him go back into that state. Could you do that?"

Evan nodded. "I would never break his heart. I love him. I can't do that, not now or ever."

The solemnity in Luke's poise vanished slowly as he eased up, the worry dissipating. "That's good. I'm happy for you two, you know that? You're gonna be one of the most gorgeous couples out there."

He reached out, patting Evan gently on the back. "C'mon, before they notice we're gone and Jonathan throws a fit about you cheatin' on him or something."

The door clicked open, and the two men sidled out of the room only to be hounded by the rest of the guys in a flurry of excitement, eager to hear about how everything broke down between Evan and Jonathan.

"So, tell us how it happened, please oh please…" Craig begged. "Tell us all about it!"

"There wasn't much to it, guys, I swear," Evan answered. "We just sort of couldn't take hiding the truth from each other any longer and broke."

"We told you guys you needed a good fucking talk, god," Marcel commented. "Look where that got you guys!"

"Yeah, yeah… the moment we started a lot more just started coming out."

Jonathan snickered softly, attracting the attention of the group, and his once-suppressed laughter grew. "Yeah… a lot more… _came_ …out…"

"GOD DAMN IT DELIRIOUS, NOBODY NEEDED TO KNOW THAT!"

Hours later, when the gaiety subsided into silence as the guests at Luke's house decided to turn in, Evan and Jonathan decided to depart and leave for Jonathan's home. As they finally entered the bedroom, weary after a long day full of vigorous activities and long drives, they settled into bed, their bodies merging into a warm lump on the center of the bed. Lazily, Evan pulled the covers over the both of them, placing a small peck on the nape of Jonathan's neck as he covered them both with the warmth of the covers.

"I missed my bed," Jonathan sighs. "Not that the one in the cabin wasn't nice, but… it just feels much nicer knowing that it's mine."

"I'm glad…" Evan sighs, without the same relaxed tone. "Look, Jonathan… I'm sorry I said those things to you months back when I didn't even really mean it at all. And I'm sorrier that I left you when I needed you the most. I _know_ that you're okay now, and you're fine, but… I really wish I could've been part of making that happen, that I could've been part of your 'okay'."

"What makes you bring that up?" Jonathan murmured, clearly exhausted. "Look... it's fine, it really is. I'm just really glad you're here with me. In all your bare nakedness, both physically and figuratively. And it'd be a lie if I said I never wished you were part of my 'okay', but you're part of my 'awesome' now. That's better than anything I'd ever asked for."

A small smile played on Evan's lips as he stared into the dark mass that was Jonathan's hair. "I'm really glad I'm here, too. Glad that I fought my demons for you, and glad that I could finally be honest with myself."

He released Jonathan abruptly and buried his head into Jonathan's pillow and murmured, his voice muffled –

"I never told you this, but you smell really amazing. I couldn't help but notice it when I borrowed your shirt that time. When I was in Canada, I'd miss you so much and I'd unwittingly catch myself sniffing at it whenever I happened to take it out when I was rearranging things in my luggage."

The deepening red in his voice was not to be missed, for Jonathan replied, his voice tinged with hesitation and all the signs of embarrassment, "I… I really liked your smell, too. That time at the beach house when we slept together…and when you lent me your clothes at the hospital… I couldn't help but notice, and I couldn't help but really like it."

Evan turned his head slightly and peeked out with an eye to see Jonathan flushing a deep beet red.

"Really?" He asked, slightly incredulous. "Well… here's the next bit…"

He took a deep breath, ready to spill, ready to confess one of his deeper secrets. "When I went back to Canada after that whole… thing… I'd dream of you from time to time. It was the first time I'd ever had dreams that vivid and dreams that I could remember slightly. Most of them were still blurry as always but I'd always wake up and I'd know that I'd seen you and your beautiful blue eyes in my dreams. And when I woke up, I'd think of how you smelled and how much I want to wake up seeing that and smelling you every single day."

Jonathan's eyes widened at Evan's words, and slowly, he closed in, giving Evan a soft kiss on his turned cheek. "I'll admit, Evan… I dream a lot about you, too."

* * *

And so with their newfound love in tow, things began reverting to normal and falling back into place. Evan and Jonathan began to play together once more, either just by themselves or with the guys, and sometimes Jonathan would sneak off to record his own material for his own channel whilst Evan edited his videos extensively. With the addition of Evan, the already loud and lively house became even louder and even livelier than before, and when they played, they'd shout and scream and laugh so loudly they had to stifle their own laughs almost as soon as they'd started in fear of having the neighbors come knocking that their doors. Everything seemed almost just as it was when they were simply friends – they'd joke, they'd talk, they'd play together and share things with each other, except now, they shared much more. They began to share their food and their drinks with each other, they began to share the bed and their clothes with each other. They shared moments of tenderness with one another, and they shared each and every kiss, as well as each and every enjoyable moment in bed, both loving and heated, together. They went on their little 'perfect date' together, multiple times at that. Some things had changed, yet some things remained. The hesitance and the uncertainty that Evan had brought into the relationship slowly eased with Jonathan's presence and Jonathan's help.

It was like this that hours turned into days and days turned into weeks. They had almost settled into a routine, with Jonathan waking first to make breakfast for them both and serving it to Evan in bed, a wondrous start to a wondrous day ahead. Once or twice Evan had tried to rise earlier to return the favor, but Jonathan would always thwart his plans by being far earlier than Evan. Some mornings, Jonathan would assert his dominance on their breakfast ritual, placing his hands on Evan's bare hips and his lips on Evan's engorged length, waking Evan up with an incredible feeling in his groin and a delicious scent in the air. Eventually, he gave up trying to beat Jonathan at his game, and simply allowed Jonathan to be their breakfast chef. The actions struck him as slightly odd, however, upon considering it properly after a week and a half of the treatment. He tried to shove the doubt aside and allow Jonathan to do what he did, but the thought kept bugging him at the back of his mind.

Over the course of the weeks, there was also a small problem – one small enough to be unworthy of mention, yet large enough in Evan's mind to bother him as well. It bugged him immensely, and he tried his best to pretend that the issue did not exist. He'd avoid mentioning anything close to the subject, and avoid referencing anything related to the issue, crossing his fingers in hope that Jonathan would never ask and never figure out what was bothering him. That, however, went awry quickly enough at the end of his third week in Jonathan's house, just as Jonathan was making him dinner whilst he sat at the counter watching him.

"You're going back to L.A., aren't you?" Jonathan asked in a low, dark tone.

Evan froze at his question right there and then, prompting Jonathan to spin around quickly, chewing his lip, with his eyes wide and knowing.

"So you are. And you've already booked the tickets and you don't want to tell me. Why?"

"I haven't – not yet," Evan explained. "But I have to go. Soon. And I was going to ask if you'll come, too."

"And move to L.A. with you and stay there long-term."

Evan hesitated. "…That, too."

Jonathan sighed softly and turned back to the stove, stirring the steaming pot slowly. "My life is _here_ , Evan. Everyone I know is here. Everything I know is here. You can't ask me to just – just drop everything and run away with you."

"And my life is there, back in Los Angeles. The company is there, the offices are there. A whole group of my friends are there. My entire career, things I have to do for work – they're all there. I _have_ to go back, Jonathan, I have to. I can't just stay here forever with you. You can't expect that of me."

Silently, Jonathan spun around, scooping out a mound of unusually dry mashed potatoes from the pot and placing it onto the plate in front of Evan. Quietly, he spoke –

"I tried to make you stay. I really did. And you're still leaving anyway. I thought you'd at least stay for me. But you're still leaving."

With an abrupt turn, he left the kitchen and half-ran into the bedroom, shutting the bedroom door behind him with a dull 'thud'. Evan quickly followed after a short pause, entering the bedroom to find Jonathan holding on to the teddy bear he gave him for Christmas tightly, almost burying his face in it as though the teddy could shield him from all of the world's woes.

"What's wrong with L.A? Why can't you come, then, if you don't want me to leave?" Evan asked.

Jonathan peeked out from behind the teddy bear and softly bit back, venom slowly seeping into his voice with each word – "You can't just drop this on me in the last minute and tell me to pack up and leave with you, Evan. And to such a large and big and loud place, too. Have you ever thought of how I'd feel? Of course you didn't – you didn't see how I would object. Why would you when you've been everywhere big like a big city boy –"

"– I _did_ , it's why I held back from asking you!" Evan yelled, his voice loud enough to wake the dead. "I _knew_ you've never been anywhere else, and I _knew_ you'd be reluctant to say yes. It's why I didn't say a thing, because I didn't _know_ how to say it without you getting terrified!"

He continued, on a roll now. "I kept playing with it in my head – _'How am I going to ask Jonathan to come with me_?' – And guess what, I didn't even want to suggest you _moving_ there at first. You did that, you put those words in my mouth! I wanted to get you to come with me, just for a bit, no moving involved, just to see how you liked staying there with me for longer than just a month, but you had to get all touchy, even though I was under the impression that you _liked_ L.A. when you were last there!"

"What then?!" Jonathan yelled back, and Evan swore he saw his eyes glimmer with wetness. "Bring me there to visit for a bit more than a month, then two, then three, then maybe a year or two and then for the rest of our lives? And if you haven't noticed, the last time I was there, I ended up spending half my time at home, playing games as I always do!"

"Then just do that there! I had to leave people behind to go there! I had to move an _entire country_ , and you can't even move _across_ one for me?"

"No – I can't!" Jonathan cried, and a teardrop spilled from what was visible of his sad blue eyes. "You don't – you don't understand, Evan…"

His heart could've broken into two just hearing Jonathan cry like that. His chest seared and burned painfully, as though his heart was yelling at him for being such a jerk. There was no way he could last against Jonathan's tears and the sight of Jonathan crying like that. Almost naturally, as though there was some force at work, Evan slid across the room and into bed with Jonathan, tearing the teddy bear from his arms and holding the man tight in his own.

"Then tell me, love… tell me. God, we've been through this before. Don't be like who I was – that lying bastard who can't tell the truth or talk about what he needs to talk about. I wanted to change for you, so please, don't be me and tell me what's wrong."

Jonathan whimpered softly and hiccoughed as he spoke. "God, Evan… I'm - I'm so scared…"

"About?" Evan urged gently.

"L.A. is… it's _nice_ but it's so big and so scary. It's so unfamiliar. I only made it through last time because Luke was there, and Luke brought a part of my world with us there… but you… I'll have to – to live a part of your life, the big scary life with all the big scary people. I can't do what you're doing, Evan, and go out there and pretend like I'm fine. I'm scared, Evan, so please… I can't live there… not just yet…"

Jonathan was shredding his heart into pieces. All the resolve in him broke and shattered into a million fragments, and all he could do was to hold the man tighter and kiss him gently on the back of his neck.

"Babe?" Evan softly approached after a long while, as Jonathan's little sobs began to subside. "I'm not going to ask you to move, okay? Not until you're perfectly ready and you want to. But I _have_ to go back to L.A. soon, just for a bit, a week or so. I need to settle some stuff with the company, tell them I'm back here with you. And I have to go back for now so I can move here with you, just in time for my birthday. Is that fine?"

Jonathan shifted about in Evan's arms to turn towards him, his eyes glassy and red and full of relief. "Evan…you -"

His words were quickly cut off by a swift kiss from Evan that grew increasingly heated. The emotional bonding in the moment had set Evan on fire, and all he wanted to do was to take Jonathan right there and then. He wanted Jonathan to cry not out of sadness but out of pleasure, and to hear the clear high vocals of his lover as he made love to him. As the little bit of resistance that Jonathan put up fell apart, for what felt like the hundredth time in their weeks together, they consummated their love under the bright white moonlight, their skin illuminated with a sensual glow that made it a thousand degrees hotter than it was in the room.

* * *

Jonathan opened his eyes wearily to a loud buzz in the room as his phone lit up beside him, vibrating furiously as if for attention. He was in bed, lying on his stomach all alone, and the other side of the bed was cold, as it had been for the past eight days. Evan was once again in Los Angeles on a business trip after multiple calls from his company absolutely begging for him to go back – and he flew away once more reluctantly, leaving Jonathan behind all alone in North Carolina with only a few kisses and a call every night, just as Jonathan woke up, to hold him them both together and to keep them both as sane as they could be whilst they missed each other out of their minds.

Lazily, Jonathan unlocked his phone and put it to his ear. "Hello…?"

"Good evening, sleepyhead." Evan's voice sounded through the other end, and Jonathan felt his heart flutter pleasantly. "Did I wake my lovely boyfriend?"

Jonathan laughed sleepily, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "You would've woken me anyway if you were here. You'd have poked me until I woke up."

"That's mean, I don't _poke_."

"Sure you don't." He giggled. "The snowman I've been sleeping with for the past god knows how long just straight up gropes me until I wake up and insists that I go to pound town with him."

Evan laughed sheepishly, his voice as smooth as silk. "Did you at least have a good sleep? You've got long night ahead of you, you know."

"Yeah, I did," Jonathan answered, unable to keep the slight note of sleepiness out of his voice. "And I know – it's going to be _really_ long. I just wish you'd have been around for the past week. My costume's absolutely beautiful."

"Tch, you look beautiful in anything. I've got a really pretty costume plan, too. If only you could see it."

Jonathan sighed. "Babe… I miss you. Come home soon, please? The bed feels so empty and sad without you and the world's so large and scary without you around."

Silence came from Evan's end. "Babe…?"

With a click, the line goes dead, and Jonathan hears Evan's voice from behind him –

"I'm right here with you, darling."

As soon as the words registered in Jonathan's head, he felt Evan's body, warm and familiar, slide up behind him, pulling him into a tight cuddle as he showered Jonathan with a multitude of kisses and a plethora of sweet nothings.

As they finally settled into a snug position, with Jonathan's body tucked in Evan's firm arms, Jonathan spoke up once more.

"How did you manage to get back so soon? Didn't you say you'd be there until early November at least?"

Evan beamed. "I was missing you so much, and I think they caught onto that. They somehow decided they could do without me and sent me packing back home to you. Tom says hi, by the way."

"Now I feel bad." Jonathan pouted.

"Don't feel bad. They made it very clear – _too clear_ actually – that they didn't need me around, and so I came back in time for Halloween."

Evan glanced around the room, chuckling as he saw the telling red, white and orange folded neatly on a nearby chair. "Your costume's beautiful, alright."

"I couldn't think of anything else. What about yours?"

A smirk grew on Evan's face. "How about you change into yours and I change into mine, and then we compare?"

Moments later, Jonathan stepped out from within the bedroom, decked out in a near-perfect imitation of Evan's GTA character – a red jacket with white trimmings on the elbows, dark pants and completed with a rubbery orange, brown and white owl mask. Evan grinned and shifted the hockey mask upwards and away from his face as he sidled up to his lover, pulling the owl mask slightly off Jonathan's face to reveal the plump pink lips underneath.

"My crazy clown boy is going to be dressed as an owl man. I like that." He breathed softly, gently thumbing the corners of Jonathan's lips.

The pair of lips smiled slightly under his touch. "And my owl man is going as a crazy killer clown with a hockey mask. _Again_. Not that there's any problem with that."

Their lips met tenderly as they tasted each other, their hearts thrumming quickly underneath the layers of cloth that covered them both. Slowly, almost reluctantly, they released each other from the kiss after some time, and they both pulled down their masks to fully conceal their faces once more.

Playfully, Evan whipped out his phone and turned on the camera function, and began recording a video just as he did back in his first time dressed as Delirious. Just like that first time, he began –

"What's up everybody, it's H2O Delirious here and I'm gonna do a face reveal -"

"– Again –" Jonathan added quietly from behind him.

"- _Again_ ," Evan repeated, grinning underneath the mask, and slid it off his face as he laughed, "I'm here!"

A flash of red, white, orange and brown came into the screen, and Jonathan started –

"Hey guys, it's Vanoss here, and I'm going to do a face reveal just like Delirious did, so…"

Jonathan quickly peeled the owl mask back away from his face, revealing the pale, flushed skin and all of his handsome features underneath. Shocked, Evan shut off the recording as quickly as he could.

"Jonathan, what –?"

"Post it on Twitter!" Jonathan said cheerily as he snatched the phone out of Evan's hands to do the honors. Through his dumbfounded state, as he finally began to comprehend the blue and white on the screen, he knew that it had been done – the video had went up on Twitter and Jonathan had shown his face to the entire world.

"Jonathan… you just…" Evan tried to speak, at a loss for words.

"Did that, yeah." Jonathan beamed as he handed the phone back to Evan. "Why?"

"It's… so sudden. You've put it off for so long."

"Well, yeah. It's been some time, so why not?" The man planted a quick kiss on Evan's cheek and whispered, "You make the big scary world a lot less scary."

Evan watched, stunned, as the man pulled away. The words sounded oddly familiar, like a bell in the distance ringing away and calling out to him. Jonathan had said something akin to these words before, somewhere in their past. From the darkness, there was a sharp light, and it struck him –

"Baby, you're not thinking of…"

He watched as Jonathan chewed his lip raw for a moment. "I mean… it's about time, no? I think I'm ready, Evan. I'm sick of having to wait back here for you, and I can't standing being without you for weeks at end. Let's move to L.A., Evan. I'm ready. It's big and it's scary but you make everything that's scary so much less than it is."

"Jonathan… That's…"

"Wait." Jonathan put a finger on Evan's lips, silencing him. "I have conditions, so hear me out, okay?"

Evan nodded slowly, waiting to hear more.

"Every year, we alternate between here and Canada for Thanksgiving. And whichever place we're at for Thanksgiving, we go to the other for Christmas. And we keep the mountain cabin we have here for all – uh – _intents and purposes_. And… once we're done with YouTube and all that stuff… if it's fine with you, we come back here. Is that okay?"

Evan thought about it for a moment, before nodding quickly, and adding, "Canada when we're older and have kids."

"So you can turn them into snowmen and hockey players." Jonathan chuckled. "Sure thing."

Evan's head was swimming. He could see so many things in his head all at once. He could see them feasting at Luke's and at Jonathan's family home for Thanksgiving, the food covering every inch of the table as they surrounded themselves with their family. They would all be laughing, talking together, playing with their darling niece and making fun of Jenn's uptightness. He could see the very same scene, every other year, except with Derek and whichever girl he decided to bring around that year.

He could also see their Christmases – cold, wintry ones in their family home in Canada, with Jonathan complaining about the extreme weather and Evan joining him, tucked under a warm blanket with mugs of hot chocolate in their hands. The Christmases they would spend in North Carolina would be less cold, with much less snow, but still cooling – and they would go bounding about the house, energetic as ever as they played with whatever was in their box of presents.

In all of these, he could see them attending their friends' weddings, and watching as they had their own children. He could see a child of their own, perfect, soft, and small. He could also see the child growing up as they grew old, their dark hair greying and their wrinkles showing.

But above it all, he could see one thing clearer than anything else. He could see Jonathan and him, arm in arm, both of them dressed in formal, black-and-white tuxedos. They were standing on white marble, surrounded by with marble walls and pillars, and behind them were rows and rows of pews. In front of them, a minister stood at the altar, overseeing the ceremony as Jonathan's mouth moved into the perfect two words that would bring them together for a lifetime.

The little trinket in Evan's pocket seemed to burn a hole into his skin and it seemed to become heavier and heavier with each passing second. It seemed to call out to him, reminding him that their future lay in four simple words – a question that Evan had to ask.

"Will you marry me?"

Evan blinked – it was Jonathan that had said those words. The man was blushing now, as though he had said something he shouldn't have.

"I'm sorry," Jonathan blurted out quickly. "It's just – I've been thinking about it for so long and I've been thinking about how much better you've made me and how much you love me and how much I love you back, but I really need to ask, and I don't have a ring but -"

"I do," Evan cut in as he reached into his pocket and drew out a metallic ring, a soft, Tiffany blue diamond sitting atop of it, sparkling in the light.

Evan slowly sank to his knees. "Jonathan. I love you, and you make me a better person as much as I make you one. Will you marry me?"

There were no words to be spoken then. Jonathan simply took Evan's lips, kissing him deeply as he whispered his affirmation between each quick breath they could steal. It was the beginning of forever for the two men, and underneath their touch, they consummated their love once more, both fully and truly baring themselves to each other as their hearts and bodies connected. They left for their Halloween celebrations much later, and received much less candy than they expected, but they were the happiest people in the world that very night as they went about their night hand in hand, a ring on Jonathan's finger.

It was perfection. For the both of them, they had a taste of it. They would go on to do everything that they promised themselves and each other. They would live up to their plans for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and yet, they would do more. They would see the world together, enjoy the sights and the way life differed everywhere else. They would travel about from place to place, always together, their fingers intertwined with the shiny metallic ring announcing their love to everyone else. Wherever they went, they were inseparable –

\- Because forever and more, wherever they were, they would always be ruled by the heart, by the rules of the heart.

* * *

 _Finally, we're here at the end. It's been a really long journey over the course of nearly four months' of work, and I'm really pleased to come to the end. I really thank every one of you for reading and enjoying this story, and I really thank everybody for all the support and encouragement that I've been given whenever I began to doubt myself. This story wouldn't be where it is without all of you._

 _I'm going to be taking a break from writing big stories like this for a bit, but I'll be back in action in no time (I hope), so expect more from me in the future!_

 _I really hope this experience has been as amazing for everybody as it has been for me, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter, as well as the entirety of Rule of the Heart._

 _-delmin_


End file.
